


Save My Heart

by itiswhatitis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Cheating, F/M, Fate, Fluff, Happy Ending, Height Differences, Lies, Love Triangles, Lovers, M/M, Model Louis, Modeling, Photographer Harry, Pregnancy, Surrogacy, Threats, Unrequited Love, but its done, im so glad, larry stylinson - Freeform, only the epilogue is left !!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itiswhatitis/pseuds/itiswhatitis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s marriage life was ruined when he kissed lost beautiful man in the toilet of his wedding hall minutes before he needed to say I do. Three years later he finds out that destiny might come when he needs it the most and it brings with it sunshine and model he needs to photograph. While what’s meant to be starts to become real - Harry needs to save Louis’ heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry's first meeting. They're getting married to different people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kinda disturbing that every time I'm finishing a fic - I'm starting to hate it with every cell of my body. If you don't hate it - please tell me lol maybe I'll learn to accept it some day :)
> 
> A massive, massive thank you for the amazing [oneerectiontomyheart](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oneerectiontomyheart/pseuds/oneerectiontomyheart) for starting to edit this thing up by her own will hah :)

_three years ago_

Louis sighs. He stands in front of a white door and takes three huge breaths.

"Louis, babe, you can come in. I’m ready!" He hears Eleanor, his fiancée, call out to him.

He sighs again, like he’s been doing a lot recently, straightens his back, and opens the door.

His girlfriend of five years is standing before him in a long white gown. If this were any other dress on any other day he would probably take the time to notice how the dress fits nicely to her body, but it's not.

Today is his wedding day; he can't believe that all of this is for him, that he is going to marry her.

"So, what do you think?" she asks while she examines herself in the mirror.

When she doesn’t hear an answer she turns around observing him with her eyes waiting for his response impatiently.  
Louis practically has to force himself to look, maybe it's because he wants these last few moments to himself. Before he is forced to look at her every day for the rest of his life, or until the contract is over.  
The dress is expensive; he wouldn’t expect anything else from the Calders. First, he's blinded by diamonds. They are covering the top held tightly to the silky white fabric. They shine with the light that peeks from behind the long curtains that are draped on the walls.

He brings his eyes up towards her face that is caked with make-up and covered with a veil that is held by a diamond tiara.

She is pretty and unblemished, like always. Living up to all of her family's expectations perfectly and without resistance.

"You’re really pretty, Eleanor." Louis says, his voice barely audible.

He just wants to get out of there as fast as he can. He wants to breathe the fresh air, to feel free again. But he can’t, he may never be free again. In a half hour he will be getting married.

Her smile grows wider, as if that was even possible and Louis only wants to scream. "Thank you." She grins politely, extremely pleased by her own beauty. "And you're very handsome yourself." She adds halfheartedly as a woman comes over to put last minute touches on her dress.  
Their 'conversation' is cut when someone knocks on the door.

“Yes?” Eleanor calls, irritated.

"Is Louis here?" a manly voice asks.

Louis shakes off his frozen mood and puts a fluster grin on his face, “yeah, I’m here.”

A young man with bleach blonde hair walks in, he's wearing a black and white suit and he looks kind of like a waiter. “Hello, I’m Niall, your wedding planner.” He says with a polite smile on his lips and a thick irish accent.

Louis doesn’t expect to know his own wedding planner because he actually didn’t know a single thing about the wedding plans, and he doesn’t care to know either. Eleanor’s parents and his mum arranged all the stuff and left him and Eleanor out of it.

“All the preparations are ready and the guests already waiting for you.” Niall adds, to oblivious to the discomfort in the room.

Louis knows his mum must be freaking out right now, she wants him to marry so badly.

“The ceremony will start in half an hour." Niall adds, after a bit. "Louis, come with me, I’ll explain you how it’s going to work. Let your beautiful bride prepare for the best day of your lives.” He begins to talk enthusiastically with a wide grin on his face.

Louis wants to let the wedding planner marry Eleanor if he so happy, because Louis is absolutely not.

"Okay." He says finally.

"Follow me." Niall turns towards the door so Louis obeys, leaves the room without even saying the last goodbye to Eleanor. He knows she probably wouldn’t answer to him anyway.

The second Louis stands near Niall he starts talking about the wedding plans, the music, the photographer, the checklists and many other things Louis doesn’t care about. He doesn’t get why they even told the wedding planner to come and explain it to him, his mum knows he doesn’t want this.

He just wants to get married so that everyone will leave him alone. Well, actually he wants to run away, to not even participate and never see the Calders ever again. The only reason he is with her is because his mother wants her money. He grew up in a rich family and when the economic crisis struck his mother spent the rest of their saving. In a last ditch attempt to save their names his mother wrote up a contract with the Calders promising Louis to marry their daughter for a share of their riches.

After 5 years of trying to love Eleanor as her boyfriend, now he has to try as her husband. Peachy, if you ask him.

In the contract it says they must have a baby to continue the Calders dynasty. That’s the only thing he can look forward to, a tiny baby with his eyes that he can take care of and love. Even if the mother has to be someone he doesn't even love.

When Eleanor isn’t arrogant – she's tolerable, but he can’t see himself loving her, he just can’t.

Niall keeps talking and Louis really wants to yell. At him, at Eleanor, at himself to break the stupid contract, but he knows he can’t. Not when it would displease his mum and cause his sisters to suffer. That's the only thing stopping him from calling it all off. He would never do anything to hurt his sisters, even if it causes his heart to sink to the pit of his stomach.

Sometimes he wishes he could lose his memory so he could forget all of his problems. So he could walk away without any regrets.

After a minute he realizes Niall stopped talking.

"Are you alright, mate?" Niall asks, confused at why Louis looks like he would rather die than be here.

He’s the first person who has asked him that in years. 'Alright' it’s not a word in Louis’ vocabulary anymore.

"Yeah I’m fine. I just need to wash my face." He lies as he observes the halls of Plaza Hotel.

"Okay. But I need you here in five minutes sharp, got it?” The practical tone comes back to Niall’s voice.

Louis nods slowly, can feel his hands starting to shake slightly.

"Go left and the second turn- right, the toilet is right there." Niall directs him.

Louis begins to walk as Niall calls after him to make it fast.

When he gets there he sees that the toilet is neat and white like the rest of the hotel. Louis enters to the toilet and leans on the counter with shaky hands, picks up his head a bit to examine his reflected figure at the horizontal mirror.

He sees red cheeks, red eyes and thin red lips. A boy with a suit that looks ready for an event he really doesn’t want to be taking part of.

He breathes heavily and closes his eyes. Doesn’t want to see that boy anymore. The reminder of what he’ll lose today clear on the boy’s face.

He splashes his face with cold water, doesn't care that he has just ruined his perfectly designed hair. Another minute passes too quickly.

Louis straightens his body and opens his eyes. He has to do this. For his sisters, for his mum.

He turns for the door and hits something hard and surprisingly blue.  
"Hi."

"Oops!" Louis calls when he notices that something was a man. A man with an extremely deep voice.

He looks up, about to apologize to the stranger but his mind goes blank.

His eyes catch first a rather big and plump nose. Taking in the man's entire face he realizes it diminishes nothing from the boy's beauty.

It makes him more special, maybe. He takes in his big green eyes, his aura of lovely brown curls, combed back accurately, all around the stranger face.

The green eyes look at Louis in curiously observing him looking for something. He can’t talk, move or breathe. They just stay in the same position, heads centimeters from each other.

The man, who looks actually kind of young, maybe younger than Louis - is much taller and that makes Louis feel small in some way, unprotected and lonely.

Only after a few seconds of staring Louis realizes how close to each other they’re standing. The stranger gets that too because he shakes his head slightly and steps back quickly.

Louis feels strange, like the tiny bit of hope he barely had - left him.  
As if this boy was sent to save him from the wedding. He can’t, though, no one can.

“Umm… I’m sorry but did you see Dusty maybe?” The man says with a deep british accent.

“Dusty?” He asks, confused, he can’t take his eyes of the man in front of him and apparently the stranger can’t too.

“Yeah, he’s my cat. He has this weird habit of running away from me when I don’t pay enough attention to him.” He grins and two dimples form on his cheeks.

Louis can’t decide what he likes most about this guy. There are simply too many things he could possibly love. Louis feels himself smile at the man's words, the first real smile in months.

“No, didn’t see him, sorry.” Louis mumbled weakly.

The other boy nods and keeps his dimpled grin on his face. “I guess this little guy is like my wife.” He admits, his voice thoughtful and slow. “Or the second one very soon.” He adds, his smile getting wider as if that was even possible.

Louis blushes, he has no idea why really, and only then does he notice the boy’s clothes.

He's wearing a white tuxedo above a blue buttoned up shirt with lots of white hearts covering it.

Louis likes that instantly too. A man with a good taste.

This boy is going to get married today. What a coincidence.

“Aren’t you a little young?” Louis asks.

“I’m twenty two. It’s not that young.” He answers, his eyebrows furrow.

“I mean, too young to get married, right?” Louis replies, looking up from his eyelashes.

He feels a sting of jealousy. But he doesn’t know if he's jealous that this boy is so happy to marry and wants to- unlike Louis, or he's jealous that this guy is getting married.

Louis frowns at the thought. He only met this guy two minutes ago, he can't possibly think of him that way already. He has nothing to be jealous of.

“Well, maybe. But you look kinda young too. How old are you?” The gorgeous boy asks, genuinely curious.

Louis’ head is up again, his eyes missing the figure in front of him.  
"I’m twenty four."

"And you’re gonna marry too, right?" Pink big lips.

"Yeah." Louis nods slowly, and without thinking asks, "Do you love her?"

Louis never regretted opening his big mouth before in his life.

What kind of groom doesn’t love his bride? Except for him, of course. He knows that there're more people like him in the world but right now that can’t comfort him. Now the beautiful curly haired boy is going to think he’s some rich man who marries just for the money. Which is true, except for the fact that he really doesn’t want this.

"Who? My bride?"

Of course he wouldn’t understand. No one can.

Louis nods slowly, bites his bottom lip.

It’s obvious that the young man loves his fiancée, he looks too innocent for those sort of things Louis is involved in. But Louis hopes so badly he’ll say no. That for the first time maybe one person will understand him.

Louis keeps biting his lip until he tastes blood, waiting for the response.

It’s seems the curly haired boy hesitates a bit before answering the question. "Yeah, well," He finally says, "That’s what marriage is for, right?"

Louis doesn’t know how to reply. Every cell in his body wants to run from there, from the embarrassment, but he wants to stay just as badly.

He looks deeply into the big emerald eyes, knowing he has to leave to go to his wedding before Niall comes searching for him.  
He observes every detail of the boys figure. Keeps it inside his brain in a special place, the boy he met seconds before his life turns to hell.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing his lips press tightly on the big, pink ones. He stands on his tiptoes to get to the boy’s lips while he begins to move his hands to the curls that he just knew were soft.

The other boy doesn’t move his lips against Louis’, but he doesn’t pull away either.

Then Louis' brain connects with his body and he gathers what he’s doing. His eyes shoot open wide from the shame, and he steps back quickly.

He just kissed a man who’s going to get married, a man that loves his bride. Damn it, he kissed a man.

"I’m so sorry…" He mumbles, looking down, he can’t stand to even see the boy’s face. "I don’t know what’s got into me, I’m so-"

Louis’ words get interrupted as lips crash into his, kissing him tenderly. All of Louis’ skin burns with electricity, from their connected lips to his tiptoes. He's never felt this way and he knows he never will. Although they met only few minutes ago, he knows- this boy is special.

There has to be a reason for him to meet Louis seconds before he breaks into pieces.

The tall groom pushes Louis into the wall, cups Louis face in his enormous hands softly. Louis breath hitches and he kisses him roughly, afraid to let go of him.

When Louis feels like he can’t stand this anymore and he’s going to explode, he hears dull call from outside.

"Louis! I thought I said to hurry up!" Niall enters to the bathroom before they had time to move away from each other.

He widens his eyes at the sight in front of him. Louis thinks it’s his end. Niall’s going to tell to Eleanor’s family and they’ll stop the wedding, which is good to Louis, but then again- bad for his family.

Niall stands froze in his place near the door, shocked.

"Please don’t tell anyone, Niall, it will be the end of me, please…" Louis almost begs, walking past the other groom towards Niall.  
Niall takes deep breath, certainly never been in a situation like this before.

"Okay. Yeah, alright. But come with me right now. Your wedding is about to start!” Niall says firmly, though Louis can notice his lips curve into a tiny smile, barely noticeable.

Louis nods, relieved.

Niall looks at Louis and then turn his sight to the curly boy.

"Alright, I guess you need a second alone. One minute, Louis. Only one minute!" Niall walks towards the door leaves the two grooms alone again.

Louis turns around to look to the breathless boy. His eyes wide with shock and his soft cheeks red and puffy.

Louis thinks he’ll have heart attack from the beauty of the boy.  
He steps closer to him and surprisingly the boy does too. The large boy puts his large hands over Louis hips like they belong there.

"I’m sorry, but I have to go…" Louis doesn’t know what to say so he just adds softly, looks up, "It was lovely to meet you."

The shock doesn’t leave the green eyes. Maybe shock that he did that before he’s going to marry, maybe shock that he likes it.

Louis lowers his head and releases himself from the embrace of the still frozen boy.

He takes a few backwards steps towards the door afraid to let his eyes leave him. The boy keeps his hands in Louis’ direction like he doesn’t want to let the smaller boy go too.

Louis sighs and regrets that he ever listened to anyone, that he’s being controlled.

A second before Louis walks out the frozen groom succeeds to choke out, “Wait, so your name is Louis?”

Louis let’s out his most genuine smile and says, “You can call me Boobear.”

Louis rushes out, keeps cursing himself for not asking the other's name. Leaving every important part of his body in the toilet with the tall man. His heart.

So when he’s been asked if he wanted to be Eleanor’s husband a few seconds later at the altar and he says ‘I do’ – he never lets out a bigger lie from his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in my tumblr [Hazandloubear](http://hazandloubear.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning.  
It was more then just a comet because of what brought to his life; direction, beauty, meaning.  
And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him.  
And even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him.  
And his world will be whole again.  
The boy saw the comet, and suddenly his life had meaning.  
 _the comet quote, One Tree Hill_

_present_

"Are you sure you ever tried to remember that today is our anniversary?"

Harry hears the dull call from the second floor and sighs.

He never stops wondering how his marriage life would’ve been if he hadn’t met Louis.

First, when he said 'I do' at the altar, still trying to shake the shock that seems like seeps into his bones like Louis himself, he didn’t really mean it and it came out as a blur because his head was full of thoughts that made him focus only on sad blue eyes and long eyelashes, not to what about to happened- his wedding.

Then, instead of talking to the guests or dancing with Jamie he ran from the hall to search Louis.

Harry wanted to see him one more time. Only one more. The cerulean eyed groom with the sharp jaw line and tan skin. The one with the high and so melodic voice that Harry thought he can die from its beauty. The one who’s so tiny that Harry wanted to fold in his arms and to never let go of.

He seemed so lost, so unhappy in Harry’s eyes. He just wanted to cure him, to understand why he has to marry someone he doesn’t love.

He didn’t know why it was so important to him that he would escape from his wedding because of it, and that scared him. Still is.

He found him at that day, though.

But he was already married to some brunette woman, the one he probably doesn’t love. So Harry preferred to stay far, not coming closer, even he wanted so badly.

Harry never kissed a man or even another girl except from Jamie, so when the blue eyed groom kissed him with so much desperate and passion, at first all he could feel was shock. He never felt something like that. He never enjoyed so much .He never had so much pleasure. It was just a kiss but better than what Jamie gave him for three years. Jamie didn’t give him this feeling and he knows she never will.

And that was weird because Harry didn’t know he can like kissing a man. Maybe it's just him. Just because it's Louis. Maybe if it was someone else Harry would push him away. He can never know.

When they kissed Harry felt it was like life belt for Louis somehow, so he had to kiss him back. Afraid that the smaller man will break if he will leave the Plaza's toilet.

After the wadding Jamie and Harry didn’t stop arguing.

Arguing about where Harry went, why he left after the ceremony and didn’t even talk the guests or didn’t pay attention to her. How he dare to ruin her perfect wedding which coasted them so much. And why he didn’t look for Dusty which found eventually hiding under some table.

So many complaints.

For the first time since they started dating Harry thought maybe it was a mistake to marry Jamie. So it sure wasn’t a good start to their marriage. Harry always hoped it will get better, that his thoughts will fade away and he’ll succeed to love Jamie like he did before he met Louis. But he just couldn’t. Can’t.

"Well, I’m sorry I didn’t remember, but-" He begins to replay.

"No, Harry! Just stop." The call cuts his mumble. "I’m tired of your excuses. Don’t you dare to tell me you have pressure at your job again. You need to know the day you got married to you wife!" Harry can tell the voice is full in frustration and that it came closer.

Harry burns his finger from the frying pan when he heard her entering to the kitchen.

He actually afraid to turn around to look at her and that’s not ok because husband not should be scared from his wife.

But eventually he does.

His back stings when he does the movement as a result from the night, when he slept on the couch.

She stands in front of him, all blue eyes and blond hair, furious.

Harry recalls from different situation different shade of blue.

Recalls he could swim in them. Swim and not float again. Well maybe to float but only so he can kiss him again. Harry know he would pay a lot to make it happened all over again.

Harry needs to understand why Louis had to marry woman he doesn’t love, he need to cure him.

Jamie doesn’t have Louis shade of blue.

Her orbs are dark blue. While Louis’ are like the sky, hers probably like the see at night.

Harry used to love it. But since she started to look at him the way she is now – with disappointment, anger and hurt, like she does all the resent three years, he can barely glance at her.

"So what do you have to say? Aha?" She keeps complaining, her eyebrows furrow. "I didn’t expect you to take me to vacation in Hawaii; I only wanted you to remember our wedding day. It’s too hard for you?"

Harry really doesn’t know what to say.

The truth is that he did remembered it, mostly because of the Louis incident, but he and Jamie had another argument yesterday night, and he thought it wouldn’t be wise to come and remind her that in the morning.

Except that, right now she seems like she fully convince in her righteousness so Harry doesn’t say anything back that will makes her angrier.

He just doesn’t have strength for that.

He’s too tired of all this.

"No. No, of course not." He sighs, makes an enormous effort to put his hands on her shoulders. "I’m sorry."

The dark blue softened a bit, so Harry relaxes.

She’s waiting for him to go on, and he knows exactly what she wants.

An idea blinks in his mind, “I’ll take you to that restaurant you love okay?”

Her eyes open wide, can’t get out one word, so Harry continue talking, relaxing.

"I’ll make a reservation for us for tonight, alright babe?"

He really doesn’t know how he’s going to do this, because it’s the most crowded and exclusive restaurant in London. But he’ll try. Because it’s worth the gap between this fight until the next one that will come soon, for sure.

"Really?" She calls excitedly, one hand on her face.

Harry grins, tries to enjoy this rare moment. He knows that if he won’t get a table at the restaurant he’s going to sleep on the couch tonight again. 

"Yes. Really."

She hugs him lightly and for a split second he can feel her too thin lips on his. He totally didn't expect that.

She pulls back and runs out of the kitchen. Not before she’s calls “I love you !”

They exchange those words between them only a pretty long time ago.

But Harry just can’t say it back anymore. He just can’t.

Then his thoughts flew back to Louis.

Harry keeps calling him Boobear in his head. Because it’s the only place where Jamie, or the rest of the world can’t hear.

* * *

 

"Liam, please talk to him! I need that reservation!"

"I don’t know Harry…" Liam replies. Can’t look up to the green wide eyes of the photographer. Eyes full of expectation and hope.

"I’ll sleep at the couch tonight if you won’t help me. Please Liam; ask him for one last favor!" Harry holds his big professional camera tight, wait impatiently to Liam’s answer.

"I don’t think that’s kind of healthy relationship, mate. She really let you sleep at the couch after you’re arguing?" Liam asks, shocked.

Harry nods slowly, too embarrassed to respond in actual words.

Liam sighs. “Okay. Fine. I’ll try to get you that reservation for tonight. But it’ll be hard though.” Liam smiles when he saw Harry face lights up.

Harry jumps on him before he could even prepare.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re a life saver!"

"Hey watch the camera!" Liam laughs and hugs Harry back.

Relief washes all over Harry’s body. No arguments with Jamie for today that’s for sure.

"You’ve no idea how much you help me, Li. Seriously." Harry pushes him back from the hug, grateful significant on his face.

Liam’s grin gets wider. “Don’t celebrate yet, body. You really need to wish me luck.”

"I know you won’t let me down." He winks at his job partner, "And besides, Zayn love you. Little table in his restaurant can’t bother him. Right?"

Liam chuckle lightly. “I guess not.”

Harry’s smile almost is out of its place.

"So just come here tomorrow at time, ok? We need to take photos for Eyejusters. You remember-"

"The biggest project shoot we’ve ever done." He sing-songs, "How could I forget? You didn’t stop talking about it for the past month." Harry shows his dimples. "Don’t worry. I’ll get here on time."

"Great." Liam’s constant smile gets a bit upwards. "Go home. I’ll call Zayn for you."

Usually Harry hates leaving his Job. Well, more like hate going home.

At home there’s Jamie. There are fights, and eventually there’s a couch.

But Harry has a good feeling about this day. Maybe he’ll succeed to forget about Louis for a couple of hours during his meal with Jamie.

The small, beautiful man. Harry knows he has to meet him some day. Have to see if he’s happy now. And if he doesn’t… well, Harry rather not to think about that.

Harry starts to pack his stuff and head home. No, head to his _house_. Harry doesn’t think he can call it home anymore.

The drive home is pretty usual. Like always, Harry thinks where he made the mistake. When is life become like this? Most of the time Louis involves in those thoughts. Why he met him exactly before their weddings? Why he can’t let go of the thoughts of him even three years later?

He finally arrives to the house. The door he can’t open himself. Doesn’t want to open it himself actually. It’s probably sounds ridiculous but after the time the fought and Jamie kicked him out of the house he couldn’t let himself enter.

He calls Jamie and she opens it for him with a light hug.

Why he need to buy his wife's love with money and promises?

All the answers come back to Louis again.

* * *

 

The line is long and full with people arguing and begging for promotions to enter. Harry is just so relieved that he know he have place in there waiting for them. After Liam called Harry and told him he talked to Zayn and got the reservation, he thought he prefer be Liam’s husband more than Jamie’s. Well, not really, but the thought really bump into him mind.

His hands start to sweat in Jamie’s hand. It was kind of weird because they’ve done it last time pretty long time ago.

But this night he’s trying to fall for Jamie again.

She looks pretty in her blue new dress. It emphasizes her too small body, too small hips. Harry pictures lovelier thicker hips which belong to specific someone.

Finally they make it to the host.

"Um… Hey. I’m Harry Styles.. And this is my wife Jamie Watson. Zayn Malik gave me reservation for today."

The host takes a look at the list. “Yes. Harry styles plus one? The table next the stage, please.” He grins at them politely and points at their table. “Have a good evening.”

Harry smiles back while going to the directed table. One of their previous fights from the past begins bumping in his head. The fight before the wedding, about how she didn’t want to keep Harry's last name and preferred sticking to hers. Harry tries to get rid of his annoying thoughts and just enjoy the evening, but they’re always find way to go back. Maybe because there is too many of them in his head.

Harry looks down at Jamie. She’s very excited and squeezes his hand enthusiastically. They’ve never been in such an exclusive place and Harry aware to the fact that Jamie just loves this kind of stuff.

The restaurant is huge, enormous, fully crowded, and the outrage is quite quiet, but in a pleasant way.

The ceiling is full with diamond chandeliers which connecting to each other by golden chains.

It’s just amazing.

Harry practically just wants to catch all the beauty in this place before he sit so he accidently thrust in their table.

"Oh, sorry." He blushes and picks his site to Jamie for some reason. Too used to apologizing to her.

Jamie does seem little bit irritated but she settle on a chuckle.

"It’s ok. No harm caused, right?" Harry transfers his gaze to some white-purplish haired girl with white and black suit.

"Right."

Harry manages finally to sit down and scan the people who sit in the tables around them.

"So I’m Perrie, your waiter for tonight, what can I get you for start?"

Harry hears Perrie’s voice but he absolutely and unquestionably doesn’t get what she asks.

Because all his will and body, is directed to someone. Someone he hasn’t seen in three years. Exactly three years.

And his world feels a little more whole than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thing will get better for Harry don't worry :)  
> Sorry for/if there's mistakes I'm not native english speaker  
> Originally posted at my tumblr [Hazandloubear](http://hazandloubear.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

When Harry was one hundred percent sure his eyes didn’t mislead him he knows one fact - older Louis is much hotter Louis.  
From what he can see, or practically eye-raping the tan man in front of him, his face is much more stunning and beautiful than he remembered.  
His shoulders are a little bit wider, his biceps way emphasize by the white button up shirt he wears but unfortunately that’s all Harry is able to see.  
He sits at the table next to them, his facade facing Harry. But Louis isn’t alone. Against him, in his table sits some Brunette woman. Harry can’t see her face, just her back, but he assumes that she’s probably the same one Louis is married to.  
Louis seems different, though.  
Instead of being unhappy or lost and melancholy like he was the other time, he’s laughing with the brunette. Laughing with eyes full of tiny crinkles, tiny just like him. And he holds her hand. Louis is so beautiful when he smiles that Harry really wants to rip his head from his neck with frustration.  
Harry wants so much to talk to him finally after so long he waits, to understand from where came the change in Louis’ life. To see if he even remembers him. Want to hold him again, to kiss him again. Harry scolds himself.  
They’re both married mans, both in their anniversaries (probably). And why Louis would want to kiss Harry even if he’ll remember him?  
He seems actually very happy with the brunette. But Harry can’t help his desire to at least go and talk. Nothing bad can happen right?  
But he can’t do that because Jamie is here. Jamie is here. And if he’ll go even for a minute the endless list of her questions will begin.  
  
"Harry? Hey are you there?" Jamie snaps her fingers in front of Harry’s face. Right. Jamie. He turns his site to her confused face away from Louis. And that’s a total waste because every second counts and Louis can get out from the restaurant and Harry will never see him again.  
"Um.. yeah I’m here sorry."  
Only when he noticed Perrie he absorbs what she asks the other time.  
"I’m sorry," he heard Jamie laughs apologetically, and Harry blushes in shame. He absolutely hate it when she does that. "He attends to be a little confused at new places." Jamie tries to excuse his weird behavior and grins in fake forgivingness towards Harry.  
Perrie nods in understanding and grins back, “It’s perfectly okay. So what do you want to drink sir?”  
Harry wishes he could roll his eyes. He’s not an idiot and he hates when Jamie makes him look like one.  
"Water will be great, thanks."  
His throat is dry and swollen and Harry knows exactly why.  
Harry tries once again to glance at Louis but Jamie already catches him with her ponderings.  
"What’s wrong with you Harry?" It seems that all her good mode gone.  
"What do you-?"  
"You know I died for years to come here and you already made obsolete idiot from yourself!" She scolds him her eyebrows furrow.  
Harry looks at her helpless. Like what the hell he supposed to say to her right now when she’s the one who embarrassing them in front of those people around and she doesn’t even aware of that.  
"I.. you.." He mumbles.  
Somehow Jamie eyes softened a bit.  
She takes Harry’s hand in hers. “Look, I’m sorry. I guess the excitement got all over my head.” She leans toward him. “Let’s just forget about that okay?”  
Harry gulps his saliva. His hand feels strange in Jamie's little one. The tension between them at the past couple of months was almost unbearable. He doesn’t expect that. Suddenly he just wants her to leave him alone.  
She can’t say what she wants and expect him to forgive right away.  
Suddenly it’s too much for Harry.  
Her hand. Her suffocate expectations.  
The fact that Louis meters away and he can do nothing about it. It’s too much.  
He quickly lets go of Jamie hand, wipe of the sweat of his forehead.  
Eyebrows furrow again, “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”  
Harry stands up from his chair, pushes it back slowly, doesn’t know even to where he can go.  
The loo. Yeah that’s a good option. He needs to wash his face before he'll faint.  
"Yeah," Lie. "It’s just a little crowded in here. I’ll be right back." He smiles weakly.  
He walks to direction of the bathroom's sign. He turns his head to glance one more time at beautiful Louis, and then at Jamie.  
In desperate and probably almost impossible hope- that when he’ll be back Jamie miraculously won’t be there so he’ll have some space to talk to Louis.  
Harry just knows that he doesn’t meet him here exactly three years after their weddings, after the kiss, for no reason.  
But then there’s also the brunette. It’s too much to ask for two women to disappear from the world?  
Unfortunately it is.  
Like many times from the past, his entrance to the toilet reminds him a very specific event which happened with a very specific feathered hair man.

* * *

  
When Harry came back from the bathroom, looks a bit refreshed, Jamie isn’t in their table.  
Its surprises him how much he doesn’t care. All his field of vision is full with one person. Louis sits alone in his table, typing in his phone. No brunette and blonde in site. Cheers.  
This is Harry’s one and last chance, Now or never.  
Harry steps closer to him, insecurity in every move. He stops next to Louis’ table; his forehead shines with sweat though he just washed his face.  
Harry coughs a bit louder then he intended to get Louis attention.  
Louis jumps in surprise and picks him head up to look at Harry.  
And just like that finally the gorgeous cerulean catches the emerald.  
Harry only stares at him with wide open eyes for a couple of seconds, devours the light-blue. The eyes surrounded by long eyelashes. Too long to be true.  
The blood rises to Harry’s cheeks faster than it ever did.  
The blue looks at him in curiosity and wonder and Harry figures he has to talk like right now or it would be really weird.  
"Um… Hey." Harry starts uncertainty takes over his voice.  
"Hey." The breathtaking tiny man replied.  
Well, that’s great. Why he couldn’t think about what he’s going to talk to him instead of just go for the unknown?  
So he decides to go for the simplest head start he can think about. And that’s was quite difficult for Harry to think near Louis.  
"So um.. Basically.. I saw you.. And um, you seems kinda familiar to me.." Somehow, Harry is a lot comfortable mumbling to Louis than mumbling to Jamie, mostly because the look in their eyes when he speaks. Jamie's eyes show impatience and only wants that Harry will get to his point. Her eyes hate his slow voice.  
However, Louis eyes radiate completely varying attitude. His eyes shine with joy and pleasant. They’re tolerant and wait patiently and listen to every word Harry pronounces. Harry feels like he could say Jack Robinson multiple times per second and Louis’ eyes would still look at him at the same way.  
But it doesn’t say that its makes Harry less nerve as he waits for Louis to response. He just wants he’ll remember him. And at least if not him- remember that he snog some man few minutes before their wedding. Harry was possibly sure that it’s not so easy to forget something like that.  
Louis laughs. Nice laugh. Kind of the ones that fills your head with happy thoughts that nothing bad can happened in the world.  
It seems like Harry’s eyes just have to stay wide open when his sight is Louis. He wants to perceive all of tiny man figure and actions.  
But why he laughs? It’s laugh of understanding and remembering? Or maybe mucking kind of laugh? No, that’s not an option. Louis' laugh is too cute and innocent.  
"Wow, well I guess I should’ve expecting that when you stared at me practically since you got here." Louis smiles at him in amusement.  
Harry just wants to hear this unique laugh again. To be the reason its leave Louis' mouth.  
Harry chuckles to cover his embarrassment and gazes to the floor. Soon enough his cheeks won’t be able to contain all the blood that they receive.  
"Hey, it’s alright, mate." Louis constant smile plays across his lips, the lips Harry misses so much. "People just can’t stop looking at me, you know? I'm used to it."  
Harry full with mixed feelings. From what he supposed to be bother more? For the fact that apparently Louis doesn’t remember him or that he caught Harry staring at him?  
Harry tries to avoid the sting disappointment which grows in his heart and to let go with the conversation and pretend he never heard the name Louis or saw the man who its belongs to.  
"Cheeky, ah?" Harry finally finds the courage to pick his head up from the sparkling wooden floor and look up again at Louis. And he was really glad he did that because he missed the feather haired man. And the eyes, of course. Yeah, he missed the eyes.  
"I’m Harry. Harry Styles."  
Harry sends his hand for Louis, steps a bit closer. He can’t miss the opportunity to touch Louis. Even if it’s just in his hand. Louis rise up a little in his sit to get to Harry’s hand and shakes it gently.  
After Harry overcomes the flow he feels between their hands and tries to overcome the lump of the butterflies that begins to develop in his stomach, he notices Louis hand almost invisible in his much larger one.  
He swallows and unfortunately the touch breaks.  
"And I’m Bond. James Bond."  
Harry opens his eyes wider. What was it?  
Louis laughs again, “I’m kidding. My name is Louis Tomlinson.”  
"I know." Harry lets out before he could control himself.  
Damn it. How in the world he can know Louis’ name?  
"You know?" Louis asks in amusement.  
"So.. Um.. I told you I knew you from somewhere, right?" Harry scratch the back of his neck, hope Louis won’t keep asking question Harry can’t answer.  
Louis doesn’t look satisfied with the excuse Harry gave him but he doesn’t say anything about it.  
"Maybe you saw me on some billboard or something.." Louis answers, sounds serious.  
"Billboard? You’re kind of model or something?" Harry doesn’t surprise. Anything will look great on Louis’ face and body.  
"Yeah, glasses model." Louis smiles widely at him. The lump in Harry’s stomach goes crazy as result.  
He doesn’t know what he’s going to do from here. Probably soon the brunette will be back, Jamie also from whatever place she have been, and Harry most likely won’t see Louis again. No, he can’t allow that.  
How he’s going to take Louis’ number?  
Harry aware to the fact that they’re both married mans, obviously, but the connection he has to Louis can’t be denied.  
Suddenly Harry recall what Liam told him earlier that day, about the models they’ll shoot tomorrow. The glasses models. Harry pries that the luck will be in his side at least this time.  
"Glasses model? For Eyejusters maybe?" He asks, all anxiety, afraid from Louis’ answer.  
"Yes, actually." Louis replies, amazed. "Did you hear of that?"  
Harry can’t help the smile that spread all over his face and perhaps behind. “Then I’m going to shoot you tomorrow. Be prepared.” Harry answer, almost too excited to function.  
He’s going to takes photos of Louis. Actual Louis. LouisLouisLouis.  
Louis chuckles, “Alright. So I guess I’ll see you, Photographer Harry.”  
He thinks his body in stages of exploding when he hears Louis pronounce his name in the first time.  
There’s no way they are saying goodbye without Louis number in Harry’s phone.  
"Can I get your number?" Desperate times call for desperate measures. And in Harry’s case it’s to take number of the very hot married guy that he knows from bathroom snog.  
Louis seems a bit skeptical, but after Harry said he asks because ‘so I can tell you where the studio is’ he’s satisfied.  
"Yeah I guess it will be okay.."  
The smile again. This smile can freak Harry out.  
Harry hands Louis his phone, feels two dimples on full display.  
Louis takes it, and for a split second Harry catches him glance at his dimples in curiosity.  
But like it didn’t happen at all Louis turns his head down to type his number, and hands it back to Harry.  
Suddenly Louis rests his ankles on the restaurant table, massages his temples and closes his eyes for a few seconds while Harry watches him in concern.  
"Are you ok?" Harry bent down to the older man who seems to suffer from a little headache.  
Louis is back for a while in Harry’s eyes to the man he saw the first time they met. The suffering and lost one. The one that Harry feel like he’s about to cry by only see him like this. And to relive this all over again.. Harry thinks it’s almost unbearable. He wants Louis to be back to his happy self.  
Louis opens his eyes slowly, too slow for Harry’s liking.  
"Yeah, yeah I’m ok. Sorry." Louis’ smile seeps again to its regular condition in his lips.  
Harry exhale in relief and stands up before Louis would gather Harry entered more than necessary to Louis personal space.  
"So how are you going to call me?" Louis is back to normal too quickly Harry’s is still confused.  
"What?"  
"How you’re going to name my contact on your phone?" Louis explains patiently. The patience. If only Louis would know how much it miss in Harry’s life.  
One last chance to check if Louis remembers.  
"I think I’ll call you Boo-"  
"Louis, baby, it was just remarkable!" Unfamiliar feminine voice cuts Harry’s.  
Harry turns his head to sound source and observe the brunette woman. She looks very wealthy consider her prestigious dress and much jewelry which placed on her ears, neck, hands and even hair.  
And the chance lost.  
She’s pretty. But nothing compare to the beauty of her husband. Louis smile brighter as he notices her, and that cause Harry to feel sting ache in his heart. It’s not like Harry prefer Louis to be miserable and unhappy like before. He simply wishes that somehow, someday, Louis’ face will light up when he notice him coming.  
"I glad you love it. I told Zayn it would be a great idea."  
At other time Harry would assume that Jamie also in whatever it is, but right now with Louis around he obviously doesn’t care.  
The woman sits on her chair in front of Louis politely.  
Only then she notices Harry.  
"And who is this?" She asks, smile plastered on her face.  
Harry furrows his eyebrows. Her smile is not real. It’s not only arrogant smile. There’s something behind it. Harry feels she’s hiding something. He doesn’t like her.  
But it looks like Louis didn’t aware of that.  
Louis turns his head to look at Harry, “Oh yeah. This is Harry Styles. Apparently he’s my photographer for Eyejusters.” Louis smiles brightly at him, but not in the same way he did to the brunette. “And Harry, this is my wife. Eleanor Calder.”  
Harry waves his hand to her direction and she grins widely. Harry doesn’t buy it.  
Eleanor. Yeah, Harry hates her name.  
"Yes, Your wife. But even our wedding you can’t remember, right?" Eleanor responds; wrinkle her nose, smiles fondly at Louis.  
Wait, what? If he can’t remember his wedding of course he can’t remember what happened and of course not Harry. But why he can’t?  
Louis laughs. This laugh is different than the laugh Harry caused him to make. This laugh is the same cute, but also more polite and tamed.  
Harry wonders if Eleanor presence makes this change.  
"Come on; blame me for that awful car crash too."  
Car crash.  
"Car crash?" Harry can’t restrain his curiosity anymore.  
They both looking at him and Harry wobbles with his footholds, blushes.  
"Yeah, I’ve been in a car crash one year after the wedding and got amnesia." Harry see in the corner of his eyes that’s full of Louis that Eleanor grabs Louis’ hand in comfort. Stroke it gently. It's actually ridiculous that their hands are almost the same size. Harry wishes so desperately he could do that instead of her. "I can’t remember anything that happened before I was nineteen."  
Amnesia. It’s actually explains everything.  
But that’s also means that Louis doesn’t know he didn’t love Eleanor. And even if he somehow knows- Does he know why he had to marry her?  
He most likely doesn’t even remember meeting her.  
While Harry got the strength to steps back from Louis and say to him goodbye, he only thinks about tomorrow like little kid before his birthday party, because the only thing that makes Harry to be able to leave Louis was the fact that they’re going to meet tomorrow. Tomorrowtomorrowtomorrow, the thoughts can’t leave his head, LouisLouisLouis.  
All the evening after with the overly excited Jamie, and over the night that he finally spent in his actual bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about Louis and about the sad ironic fact- If once Louis had to marry woman he doesn’t love- now Harry doesn’t love his wife mostly because of Louis.  
Harry promised himself at the beginning of the evening to try to fall in love with Jamie again. But this promise doomed to fail. Harry’s heart apparently has other plans for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr [Hazandloubear](http://hazandloubear.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

Louis never had those headaches. 

Sure, he had many since the accident, but not this much, or this aching.

Every time he thought about Harry during the night after he met him- they reappeared, harder and longer each time. It’s like his brain tries to find something long forgotten. Like it makes an effort to read something that someone erased pedantry, so no one will know what was written.

And that was kind of hard for Louis not to think about him.

Louis notice there’s something Harry wanted to tell him, like it’s not the first time they met, like Harry _knows_ him somehow, but he quickly gets rid of this thought. Louis knows it’s his brain again, misleading him, making his thoughts blare, makes up stuff as always.

Louis loves Eleanor. Well, more like respect her and love the fact that she’s his wife. And well, who else can he love? She always been there for him since the accident, since he got the amnesia, taking care of him, telling him everything that happened and everything he did. And he believed her. Why wouldn’t he? She had been with him at his tough times and showed she cared about him.

They tried again for a baby tonight. They tried almost every night since his world stacked in nineteen.

Eleanor is determined to have a baby. Louis can see how much. Sometimes, he feels her will is not exactly natural, like except from the joy and the wish she will be a mother, there’s something else. Some motive he doesn’t know about.

While Eleanor sleeps next to him at their king sized bed, Louis gazes vacantly at the ceiling, numb sensation all over his body.

Sometimes he has this feeling like something is missing. But he doesn’t know why or what. He has huge house full of maids and servants, beautiful wife, job he loves to work in. So what is it?

Harry Styles seems to have the answer to that. If he doesn’t – probably no one will have.

Louis closes his eyes. He’s going to know what it is. And Harry will tell him what he wanted at the restaurant, sooner rather than later.

And just like that the headache comes back. Louis curses and sends message to his butler to bring him some aspirin. This is going to be a long night.

* * *

 

When Louis and the other two models arrived to the studio with Katy and Jake -their managers from Eyejusters, Harry is already there. The message he got from Harry this morning about the studio location was quite practical, and caused Louis a slight headache. But once Harry spotted Louis he smiles and looks happy to see him. Louis guesses he should’ve take two more pills before he left the manor. It’s not that Harry’s presence gives Louis those headaches, Louis truly thinks Harry is a nice guy, but only the thought of him does something to his brain and its can freak Louis out.

Louis puts his hands in his quite tight jeans pockets and notice that Harry starts walking towards him, camera hanging on his neck. Louis smiles, determine not to show Harry his head hurts again. If he does, Harry will begin to think something is wrong with him.

Only when Harry is only a few fits farther Louis notice he’s is much higher than him, that his eyes are much brighter and his skin looks pale.

"Hey,"

But in a way Harry seems just like yesterday. Cheeks overly red, eyes too big and wide. Louis wonders if it’s natural Harry looking. Or it’s something else. If it’ll continue like that Louis might think it’s only when he’s around.

"I’ve waited for you." Harry continues, smile enveloping his words.

Louis chuckles as Harry mumbles the next words, “I mean… _We’ve_ been waiting for you.”

Louis knows it’s not possible but Harry’s cheeks have been reddening even more.

"Hey Harry." Louis smiles, looking up, "It’s nice to see you again as well."

Louis sees Harry looking at his face, observing it. He must notice the bags under Louis eyes so he blurts, “Um…You look awfully tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night?”

Louis is in quite shock as he heard Harry. Eleanor never asked him about stuff like that. The only people who cared about his tiredness were his bosses who need him to look good, or his mother sometimes.

Louis covers his shock by laughter.

"Yeah you’re right. I actually thought about you all night. That’s why I couldn’t sleep." Louis can’t believe he just said it, no matter it came out as a joke. It was partly true, but how Louis formulated the sentence just doesn’t sound appropriate.

Louis discerns a bit of sparkle in Harry’s eyes, but Harry doesn’t respond a thing about Louis’ previous words.  

"Um… Come on in I need to talk with your managers." Harry lets out, a bit puzzled but keeps a bit dimpled grin on his face.

Louis didn’t even noticed that the others already got in and only he and Harry still standing near to the studio's entrance.

Louis gathers what he informed him and walks to the entrance, still feeling sort of an idiot. Luckily for him, Harry seems to take his blurt as a joke.

He can sense Harry is just behind him while he enters to the rather small studio.

Mostly he has been photographed in big and more known studios at London. But his bosses decided they need a change. They said at small studios Louis and the others will act more naturaly, and that’s exactly they need for the new collection.

Harry and some tall guy with well-designed brown hair start to talk with Katy and Jake while Louis scans the studio.

They were at the main hall. All the walls are white but there aren’t any windows. There is a stage with white background, spotlights, umbrella lights and cameras. Louis can see a big fan near one of the corners. Polish wooden floor. It’s quite simple. He likes it.

There are more rooms at the studio but the doors to them are closed.

Louis brought back to reality by Harry’s voice. It seems that they done discuss with Louis’ managers because they’re nowhere to be seen.

However, Harry and the brown headed guy as well stand in front of Louis.

"Um…Louis, this is Liam. Friend of mine and the owner of this studio. Liam, this is Louis; one of the models."

Liam smiles and shakes Louis’ hand. "Nice to meet you Louis."  

"Likewise." Louis returns a smile to the kind eyes.

Liam glances at Louis one more time before he turns to Harry. "I’m going with Leo to prepare the other models. I’ll leave you with yours." Liam winks at Harry for unknown reason and leaves them.

Louis succeeds to catch Harry’s pouty face the wink caused. However as Harry faces Louis all the irritation disappears and exchanged with dimples and big grin and white teeth.

Harry is definitely a beautiful man.

Even only at the artificial light of the studio Louis can tell Harry’s figure is something special. The light glows on his almost straight hair until the chocolate brown turns to kind of cinnamon-brown. Half of his face affected by the light and its makes them shine on the pale skin. The eyes too green, the teeth emphasize dimples and it’s all way too much.

Louis sticks his eyes to the floor. Determine not to give importance to Harry’s beauty.

"So… I’m going to shoot you for the project." Harry’s voice sounds really happy. Like he won something. "And that wasn’t obvious, though. I needed to fight for this, you know."

Louis just had to pick his head up.

And the big-dimple smile never stops to beam.

Louis chuckles, “Obviously. But I’m man of one person as you know.”

The light smile seems to fade a bit and the emerald sparkles less somehow.

"Yeah, um.." The small smile doesn’t reach to his eyes now. "They said that to increase the feeling of your comfort it only the model and the photographer at one room. So. Come on, our room is the right one." His voice changes to more practical ton but his cheeks become red around the disappearing dimples.

Harry steps in confidence and opens the right white door. It’s just like the stage at the main hall, although smaller and somehow intimate.

A few different tapes of cameras already are in the room, and Harry gets close to the one with the stand and prepared her for the shot.

"Get on the stage." Harry picks his head up a bit from the camera, a little smile curls on his lips. "Try to feel natural."

Louis suddenly feels really self-conscious and actually that’s never was one of his problems before. He takes from the table pair of black glasses (his favorites) and puts it on. He walks off to the stage, hands on his back and eyes the young man behind the camera insecurity.

"Natural? They always tell us to be stern and look directly at the camera…" Louis wonders and feels stupid. If Harry asked this from him- he probably knows.

No more idiotic remarks.

In the meantime Harry starts to take photos of the unprepared Louis to check how the light combination effects Louis’ skin.

From the expression on Harry’s face; its perfect.

"That’s what I’ve been asked though." Harry replays, "Talk to me. Smile the cheeky smile of yours. Maybe it’ll help you."

Louis smiles at the comment, hopes it’s came out cheeky.

"So.. What do you like to do besides shooting beautiful curvy arse models?" Louis tries to act casual, like it doesn’t truly interest him, but fails miserably by the look of curiosity that formed on his face.

"That’s great. Keep that angle. Perfect." Harry mumbles avoids the question in ease.

Louis keeps his smile as he has been told, but the confusion clear in his eyes.

"You know, as the person who convince me to talk to him in the middle on a shooting- you don’t really fill your side of the conversation.."

Louis expects that Harry will continue to avoid him, continue to mumble instructions. But surprisingly he stretches up from his constant leaning to the camera and sighs. He seems tired, like he’s ninety and not in his twenties. Like he’s been through years and years of troubles and sadness and he doesn’t able to see past them or when it going to end. Louis thinks no one deserve this. Especially not young and passionate photographers.

"I’ll probably tell you when the time comes." Harry lets out finally, "but not now." He’s looking at the wooden floor for a few seconds, and then picks his head up and tries to grin again. But it’s not the dimple-smile. "Just be pretty and shut up, okay?"

Louis catches that he need to answer only as Harry’s expression changed into smugly smirk and he bents down again to the camera.

"Um.. Yeah yeah pretty and shut up."

Louis aware to the fact that he only asked Harry about his habits, but apparently somehow everything comes back to that something Louis doesn’t know.

"I think you better keep talking. You look more erm.. _you_ like that..” Harry expresses his opinion quietly.

Louis smiles, “So you practically say I’m babbler don’t you Harry?”

"Um.."

"It’s okay, I am." Louis’ grin gets wider, satisfied.

Louis can’t exactly see Harry whole face but he can tell he’s smiling too.

"So.. Do you want to tell me something about yourself or.." Louis asks.

"No.. Um.. Is it okay if you'll tell me about yourself?"

Louis turns to another angle and runs hand over his hair.

"Practically I don’t remember entire six years from my life so you just have to put up with it." Louis eyes Harry as the Camera lens separate them.

Harry stays focus on the camera, hums to let Louis know he heard him.

So he tells him. Tries to move his mouth as little as possible. He tells Harry about his sisters, which he can’t remember growing, about the quiet mornings in Doncaster, the huge house over there, but also about the money break down.

"From there.." The constant smile on Louis disappears and he averts his eyes to the stage floor.

He watch from the corner of his blue eyes Harry rise up from his half-standing spot, passes the camera without taking another glance at it, and gets closer to Louis.

 As he located in only a touching gap from Louis he whispers softly, “What happened from there?”

And it feels to Louis like Harry wants to ask more, that he’s holding himself, that what he asked so quietly is actually extremely important to him for some reason.

"I can’t.. Can’t remember anything from there." He whispers back eventually, "That’s the point."

He lifts his site up to look directly at Harry’s Emerald and cinnamon.

He watches in silence how Harry raises his hand slowly, bit by bit, until it’s almost near Louis jaw line. The hand is he rather big next to Louis’ head, but not because it’s small, only because Harry’s hand is simply enormous. Louis’ whole face is almost itching at the tension between them. He just wants Harry to touch him. No matter the consequences, because won’t be any. Nobody needs to know.                                       Louis knows by the look on Harry’s eyes that Harry needs this touch more than he does. Louis closes his eyes in expectation to the touch but he can’t feel anything because when he opened them he sees Harry’s hand froze close to his face and suddenly it returned to its place next to Harry's thigh.

Apparently he decided to go on talking, then.

"It’s really sucks then." He express, his red lips barely moving.

"Tell me about it." Louis sighs and it seems that the entire world comes back to normal. When rich models and simple photographers can’t be this close to each other.

Harry blink twice slowly and snaps suddenly, straighten up and walks back to his camera.

Louis misses his presence right away.

"Change pair of glasses, please." Harry’s voice sounds strangely cold and practical.

Louis suddenly released from the shocked feeling and closes his eyes again. The headache is stronger than ever.

But again, he doesn’t want Harry to be aware of that so he gets the other pair (now blue ones instead of the black he wore before) and puts them on.

Afterwards it went silently.  Louis keeps walking slowly around the stage, and Harry directs him when needed.

It was until Harry murmurs, “What happened in the aftermath, then?”

Louis sighs in relief. He thought Harry isn’t going to talk any time soon.

"Erm.. Actually it went kinda blurry at the start. Constant headaches, confusion, sleepy most of the time."

Louis eyes Harry again. The latter stopped taking pictures and fully listened to Louis.

He just watches Louis expectedly, waits for him to go on. Even though it seems like every word Louis lets out at the last sentence causes him pain.

"And well, Eleanor helped me. She tried to fix most of the damage that the accident caused me, and.."

Suddenly in feels really out of place to talk about Eleanor with Harry, and apparently Harry think so too because he takes the conversation to another path.

"Do you remember the accident?"

The headache all over again. Louis swears it's never been so painful.

Louis narrowed his eyes in pain and the game is over. Harry can think he’s weird; he just can’t hide this inside of him anymore.

He stumbles a few steps, tries to reach some chair at the stage margins although before he succeed he sense big hands catches him and holds him at the shoulders.

"Louis! What's wrong?" Louis is sure the green now wide open and the cinnamon is stuck to Harry’s forehead beautifully.

Louis allows to the arms to hold him, and even lift him up from the ground.

"M'head." He whispers and place hand on his forehead.

He hears dully Harry’s voice calls urgently for something, over and over again.    

Even though his head-issue he can tell Harry holds him up, one hand under Louis' legs and the other soft and reassuring under his head. He barely opens his eyes since Harry catches him but he feels they’re moving and that Harry’s face are really close to his.

"You’ll be okay, Louis. I promise."

Louis doesn’t know how much promise of a person he only met yesterday worth, but as he opens his eyes and see the green look at his back in such a concern towards him- he can only be surprised. He knows that no one can build this amount of care and worry for another person in only one day.

But he closes his eyes again and let the promise and the green wash him to the uncertain black and blurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr [Hazandloubear](http://hazandloubear.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

The waiting room is quiet. Only two people there besides Harry and the silence threaten to takes over him. He can still feel Louis in his arms. But not how he imagined it, no. The Louis who was in his arms was weak, hurt and in pain.

Louis is in for an hour and Harry cannot be more impatient and more worried. It happened while he was with him, and Harry should’ve paid more attention, to look for signs to the suffering he had. And now who knows what the damage he caused him?

Harry aware to the fact he probably need to contact Eleanor and tell her what happened, but he just doesn’t want her here, as bad as it sounds. And apart from that, he simply doesn’t have her number.

Jamie must wonders where he’s now, but even if the couch will be waiting for him again tonight – he can’t leave Louis.

Beautiful Louis who looked like angel with those damn glasses.

Harry still can’t believe he almost touched him. And it wasn’t subtle at all. Louis must think he’s pervert. Or crazy. Or both.

He passes hand through his hair. And it doesn’t get any better.

The second the doctor comes out from the ward’s banging doors Harry jumps.  
The doctor scans the room until he notice Harry and steps closer to him. “Are you the one who brought Louis Tomlinson here?”  
Harry nods quickly, “Yes, it’s me. How is he?” He asks, eyes full of worry.  
The doctor observes him for a Few seconds in suspicion.  
“We gave him some painkillers so he’s sleeping right now and he’ll be just fine. I’m his personal doctor so you can be sure he’s in good hands.”  
“Great. I’m glad.” Harry exhale in relief. “But what was it actually? What happened to him?”  
The doctor looks around, “I’m not positive if I can tell you that unless if you’re one of his relatives.”  
Harry bits his bottom lip, “But I know him for a really long time..” That’s not exactly a lie, but not the absolute truth.

He just hopes Louis’ doctor won’t tell him that. It’ll cause Louis to ask questions Harry isn’t ready to answer.

"And.. Um.. I can’t let anything happened to him again." He whispers, looking down at the polish floor.

He only met Louis 3 times. Only 3 times. But It’s feels like everything changed between them each time. First, the tender understanding and the kisses. Second, the laugh and the distance. And in the third.. He somehow made it to the hospital because of Harry.

Yes, they met 3 times, but it doesn’t feel like that to Harry. Not at all.

He picks his head up toward the doctor. What if what happened to Louis will happen again and he won’t be able to help him again?

No. One time to see that little pretty man collapsing in his arms in pain is too much. He has to know what caused it.

"Who are you for him if I may ask?"

"I’m his photographer and, um, we’re really close friends." Too many lies. But sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures.

The doctor still seems doubtful, so Harry tries another sentence, if it won’t work then he doesn’t know what’s more to say, “Please. He is extremely important to me.”

Harry watches the doctor in fear, like his whole life depends on his decision.

"Well, the best offer I can give you is to wait until he’ll wake up. I need his permission to talk with someone else about his medical details."

Harry exhales. It’s must better than nothing.

"Can I see him?" He asks, hope full his eyes again.

"Yes, just keep quiet. Ask from the nurses at the reception for direction to his room. I’ll come later to check on him and see what he said about sharing all this with you."

Harry nods, thankful, “Thank you, doc.”

The doctor returns nod and adds after he starts walking pass Harry, “When he’ll wake up tell him that Eleanor is on the way here.”

Harry definitely forgot that this is Louis’ personal doctor which knows practically all about him so of course he’ll call Louis wife who seems to be one of the richest woman in London. Everybody knows them and Harry was really dumb for thinking he can save Louis all to himself.

This thought gives Harry uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if Louis needs Eleanor’s help and Harry wanted to prevent him from getting it? What if Louis doesn’t even want him here? There barely know each other anyway.

But he promised Louis he’ll be okay, so Harry going to make sure of it.

He opens the doors and steps into the ward. Finding Louis’ room wasn’t hard at all. It’s the last room of the corridor. The biggest and cleanest one.

Once Harry steps into the room, he knows he have to, well, ‘enjoy’ this time with Louis alone before Eleanor will get there.

In another time he would’ve think what she’s going to say when she’ll see him sit next to Louis’ bed, what she’ll do, but all his thoughts disappears as he watches him lays there, so pretty, pale, tiny, desirable and so untouchable. It’s crazy how he’s so close but so far away by thousands of barriers between them.

He stands there, hardly blinking, can’t decide on which body part he should focus first.

Harry chooses the face. The lips, oh he misses the lips. He can’t remember anymore the feeling of them crushing into his, but he can remember it was great. For months when he kissed Jamie he prayed to forget about it so he could move on from that incident, but it didn’t go away. But now he wants to feels it again in reality or at least remembers how his lips feel like. How they mix with his own, like puzzle pieces, work to be both soft and tender.

Then he moves to the pale cheeks. Thinks how they blush as their owner says something cheeky.

Then to the eyebrows, to the long long eyelashes, to the eyelids.

Harry strikes with cerulean. The eyelids flutter slowly, shows every time little glimpse of what’s underneath them.

Harry is so concentrate at the familiar color that it takes him a few seconds to recall- Louis is waking up.

"Louis?" Harry opens wide eyes, mumble unbelievably. Yeah it’s been only a few hours since it happened but with the guilt of it sitting on your back it seems like months.

Louis flatters his eyes a couple quick times, adjusts to the bright light and then mumbles, “H-Harry?”

Harry suddenly gathers what he has to do and calls for the doctor while Louis murmurs weakly something about water.

"Shh shh Lou," He puts his index finger on Louis’ lips gently, doesn’t even know how he gets the courage to do that. “I’m going to get you some water and then the doctor will come right away. Alright?"

Louis nods slowly, eyes drift close again.

Harry is about to run to get water but he stops and look at Louis’ closer hand which place on the bed so touchable, like his lips, and hair and all of him.

He touches the pale hand with the pads of his three middle fingers, lifts his head up to meet the cerulean orbs that flatter open to the unexpected touch.

"I’ll be right back."

He sees Louis’ lips curls into tired smile, too tired to speak.

Harry returns the smile, only much bigger and turns to exit the room all his thoughts are load with Louis and Louis’ eyes and hand and smile until he almost misses the two taps on his shoulder on his way down the corridor.

"I’m sorry but I really in hurry-" He said distractedly, however the words taken from his mouth as he gather who stand in front of him.

"Hello." Eleanor smiles sweetly at him. “Harry was it?"

And here she is, all shiny and flawless. Yes, he’s happy for Louis that she came, but why now? Ok that’s a terrible lie. But she’s Louis’ wife then who is he to say something?

"Yeah.." He replays wariness. “Eleanor was it?" Like he can forget her name.

Her smile gets wider, but Harry doesn’t like that smile. It’s kind of I glad we understand each other smile.

Louis is waiting and Harry practically has no clue what she wants.

"So doctor Chiller told me you were with him when it happened, correct?" The smile keeps steady, froze like the woman herself.

"Yeah, that’s why I’m here, but umm.. He asked for water and I really need-" He says, voice stressed and high.

"I’m his wife," She points out, the look in her eyes profound. “I can take care of him, so you’re allowed to go."

No, he can’t go. He promised Louis he’ll be back. She can’t keep Harry away from him.

He wants to protest, to say he needs to stay here for Louis, but no word or syllable can get out. This cold woman with her cold eyes freaks him out, and he finds himself respond opposite things from what he wanted to say.

"Um.. so, yeah. I should be going." He mumbles, head sticks to the hospital floor.

He begins to step to the way out from the ward, tries to catch last glance on Louis before he gone but she’s in his site again unfortunately.

"And if you will ever even think of touching him again, or looking at him in the way you did-" She pauses, the sweet smile sweeter than before, “then you really don’t know who you got yourself a deal with."

Harry gaze blankly on the wall in front of him while she gone.

She saw him. And who knows what she’s going to do now.

* * *

 

On the way back to the studio where his car is, everything seems duller. Maybe it’s because he needs to go to his house where Jamie and screaming and couch waits, or maybe it’s because he found the person he waited for three years and now his wife threat him about that. He can’t blame her, though. If Louis was his he would’ve done anything he can to keep him for himself only.

He kicks small stone from the sidewalk while feeling his phone vibrates in his back pocket.

It’s Liam.

"Liam?"

"Hey, Harry. How is Louis?" It doesn’t sounds like the reason of his call. More like it small talk before the main business.

"He’s going to be fine.." He sighs. “From what I saw, anyway."

"Great. Um.. So listen, I know it’s been only one day but they called from the company and asked to replace Louis’ photographer."

Harry stops walking, freezes in his place, “What?”

"Yeah, well, I tried to convince them, but they were very determined, said something about highly orders I think." Liam said in hesitation.

Harry groans loudly, “I can’t believe it!”

Eleanor. Acts fast and hard. What did he even do? Tried to help her husband while she wasn’t there?

"It’s not that bad Harry. We can replace it’s not so important-"

"It is important, Liam!" He feels bad for yelling at him, but he’s just so angry. He inhales and exhales deeply, and then huffs, “Listen, I’m sorry.. We’ll talk about this later.”

"Alright, see ya mate."

He ends the call and almost tosses the phone on the sidewalk.

How she can do this to him?

He did nothing except crushing a little bit on her husband.

It’s not an acceptable thing, he knows. But near Louis he feels connected to himself. Its cliché but he feels like when he’s with him there’s no other place that he would rather be. Place where there isn’t Jamie, yells, fighting, sadness, boring and regular. He’s different. And Harry wants to know his insides and outsides. To understand what was it three years ago, and what is it now.

Sadly, thanks to Eleanor, he can’t. If she has control over the company he’s working for and the reason of their meetings – she has control on everything.

He keeps walking, reminds himself that the longer he’ll be out without Jamie knowing where he is, the fight when he’ll be back will be longer and more exhaust.

He sense something wet falls on his nose and picks his head up. Great. It’s raining.

He inhales and exhales, tries to calm himself down. He covers his head with his hands, phone still in one of them, and runs to the closest cover his notices. He watches the rain falls for a few seconds and then circles to see where he’s hiding.

It’s tattoo parlor. The walls around him full with samples of tattoos. So many forms, sizes and types. He stands there, amazed.

He never thought of getting a tattoo. Its sounds to him too exceptional, too strange and abnormal. But standing there, looking at those amazing designs, he gathers that that’s one of the only things she doesn’t have control about. His own body.

He can do whatever he wants with it and no one can tell him what. Not even Jamie. In this way he can remember Louis no matter how far away she will make him stay. Forever.

Part from a conversation he had few years ago pops up in his mind. Times when he was happy, carefree, and felt that the world in his hands.

_"Ed, why do you even do all this tattoos? You know its going to stay with you for life."_

_"Yeah, but sometimes when you have too many in your heart that you can’t tell, you have to put it out on your skin."_

And that’s exactly how he feels, so that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

He opens the parlor’s door, and redhead woman, full of body piercing greets him. She must’ve saw how insecure he is by standing next to the door without saying a word. Her welcome makes it easier on him.

"Hi, I’m Rayna. Do you need any help, babe?"

Harry is kinda lost in all the possibilities and he absolutely has no idea which tattoo will fit to this situation. He needs help.

"Yeah, um.. It’s like.. I need something which remind me someone that I met few years ago and now some.. People.. want to keep up apart." He explains the entire story in one sentence and hopes that she won’t get complicated with his request.

She smiles reassuringly, “Alright. What about Far Away, ah? This will describe your situation perfectly.”

He considers the offer for a couple of seconds. “Um.. what about something more.. personal or unique maybe ?”

She shrinks her mouth to one side, thinking.

"Well, there always the first words."

"First words?" That’s already sounds better.

"Yeah. Like what were the first words you said to each other?"

Harry recalls the incident from his wedding night. Their weddings night.

"umm.. It’s hi and oops i think." But he doesn't need to think. He's sure of it. It isn't hard for him to remember it. He remembers everything from the other night, including what Louis wear and the walls paint.

"Great then." She smiles. “It’s sounds okay for you?"

The moment when Louis bumped into him. The moment when their eyes first met. The moment when he first heard his voice. It must be it. There isn’t tattoo more suitable than that.

"It sounds perfect." He smiles for the first time since he last saw Louis.

* * *

 

The sketches she drew for him came out amazing. Exactly how he imagined it. It hurts. One word at each arm. But it’s fine. He feels stronger and steadier. Louis in his skin, Louis in his heart, Louis everywhere.

He wishes it could’ve be a couple tattoo, that one word would be on one of Louis’ arms. But he’s ok for now. The ink shows what he can not say.

And with one last though before he opens the house’s door, few hours later, phone full with purposely missed calls, he consoled of the thought that he still own the studio. So what Eleanor doesn’t know- probably won’t hurt her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god, i didn't mean to make Eleanor this bad but it was required so yeah..
> 
> Originally posted at my tumblr [Hazandloubear](http://hazandloubear.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there's any mistakes I'm not native english speaker :)  
> Originally posted at my tumblr [Hazandloubear](http://hazandloubear.tumblr.com)

The days at the estate after that were weird. Eleanor just kept serving him, asking if he want something every five minutes, taking her time to cuddle with him and kissing him.

Usually she's barely home not moving a finger and the kisses she saves for the night. It was strange. However, Louis didn’t say anything. And what was stranger was that when he asked her about Harry, on why he left and didn’t come back to the hospital's room, she just said that Harry told her he has something to do at his home and just left.

She shrugged and kept stroking him on the shoulder. At the first time of his life, or the first time since he remember, he wondered if she lied to him. At the short time he get to know Harry, he didn’t seem to him this kind of guy who doesn’t keep promises and just leave without saying a word. Especially not after that look he gave him. The look and the touch which the mix of them together made and _makes_ him to shiver even three days after.

Louis still doesn’t know what it was, really. But that look wasn’t regular gaze and Louis is positive Harry wouldn’t abandon him after that. He couldn’t.

Eleanor enters to the room with big silver tray on her hands full of food, interrupt his thoughts.

"Breakfast to my babe!" She announces, sets the tray on Louis’ thighs. Louis tried to smile at her, but he's pretty sure it comes out as a grimace.

The food looks hot and delicious, _but_.

"Thanks, El. But I don’t feel like eating."

He takes the tray with weak hands and puts it on his bedside table.

Eleanor pouts, and sighs, “Alright. But you _will_ eat.”

He nods, straighten in the bed, tries to concentrate on the telly in front of him.

Eleanor comes closer to him, lays on the bed, and whispers in hotly to his ear, “If you feel like it, I’m going to wear something very special for you tonight.”

Louis moves his head a bit farther from her to look at her. It’s the same look as every night, the one which full of determination. The one who he can’t fully understand his motives. The one who wants a baby. Not just wild night with Louis.

"You’re doing this again." He averts his eyes away from her, staring at his lap.

"Doing what again?" She watches him, brown eyes wide with confusion.

Louis sighs. Why he never said to her something about it? And to think it was like that for the last two year non-stop.

"Not telling me why it’s so important to you so we do it practically almost every night." He answers. Doesn’t want to get into argument, but maybe this time it’s necessary. "I get it that you want a baby. Yeah, I want that too. But you don’t think sometimes it’s too much?" He asks, turns his head to look at her, wonder all over his face.

"It’s not just about the baby, Lou." She places her hand on his hair, stroke it slowly. "It’s about me wanting _you_ all the time.” She leans for a kiss, but Louis turned his head so her kiss will be placed on his cheek.

"When you’ll _actually_ want to tell me the truth, I’ll be ready to listen." He finishes the conversation, in the first time not sorry for causing a fight with her.

"It is the truth!" She turns Louis’ head with her hand, so he’ll look at her in the eyes.

"I don’t think you know what it’s like to not remember six years from your life, Eleanor. Everyone around me needs to be one hundred present honest with me so I could trust them. And right now," He pauses, inhale deeply, and look at her right in the eyes. "I don’t know how I could've trust you until today."

He sees her eyes flash with hurt and disbelief. He's sure no one ever told her something like that. She always has been the spoiled rich girl from the mansion. And he knows she'll stay that girl most.

However Louis knows it’s not the end of it. Eleanor learned all her life not give up and to say the last word.

She opens her mouth the say something back, sentence which will seal the deal, but she froze and stared blankly at Louis for a few seconds, and then, like something clicked inside of her, she jumped of the bed and runs to the attached bathroom.

Soon enough Louis hears coughs and vomit sounds. He gets up quickly, manages to overcome the little headache it caused him and enters to the toilet.

He watches Eleanor pukes in the toilet bowl, her hair clings in the sides of her head, sticks to her sweaty face.

He cuts himself of the shocked state he was in, and bents down to her, passes his hand smoothly all over her back, up and down, one hands keep her brown locks away to make her breathe in more ease. The vomit rhythm stops slowly, and she starts to breath more easily. Louis sighs in relief.

She tries to stand up, catches Louis' hand for support. He leads her to the sink and helps her washing her face while she places her hands in the countertop.

He hands her a big towel, and asks gently, “Feel better now?”

She nods weakly, wiping her wet face, “Yeah, that’s probably something this dumb Martha made me eat.”

Louis doesn’t want to blame their cook Martha, but that’s the only logical explanation he can think of.

He shouldn’t start that fight earlier if that’s part of what caused this. Even if it was a little part of it.

It was stupid anyway.

He wraps his arm around her and leads her to the bed, while she yawns and raises her left hand to cover her mouth.

"Tried already?" Louis asks; all his distance and anger from before disappears.

He sets her on the bed next to him and hears her murmur, “You’ve no idea.”

* * *

 

The day after Louis felt a lot better so he decided he can go to Harry’s studio. Eleanor herself convinced him she’s ok and that he can go. And apart from that, he sort of-kind of missed Harry. He hadn’t heard from him in the past few days and he wonder why he didn’t text him or call or _something_. That was weird and so unlike Harry. He can’t just show up there without letting him know, so couple of minutes before he decided to drive to the studio, he texted him.

(8:12)

_I’m coming today for shooting. Is that ok?_

Louis accepts the answer not long after, can't help his fingers to shiver tiny bit as he read the reply.

(8:13)

_More than ok. You can come now._

Well. He’s not going to argue.

"I’m out, El! I’ll be back at noon!" He calls for the woman on the second floor to know and leave without waiting for an answer.

He arrives to the studio five minutes later, enters freely, feels that this place actually fulfill its purpose- making him comfortable.

He’s the only one in the studio’s rather small main hall, so he waits there patiently until he hears footsteps coming from one of the rooms. From the right one to be accurate, the one he was with Harry for the shooting the other day.

The door of the latter room opens and it’s Harry. It’s Harry and he’s all like he remembered him, perhaps more pretty, but his eyes puffy and red, and the look on his face full with worry. But it all changes as he spots Louis stands few steps away from him, too far for Louis’ liking, and apparently for Harry’s either.

His eyes brighten with sparkle and he closes the gap between them with three big steps, and for Louis’ surprise, envelopes him in his arms. Louis is frozen; starting to feel the familiar headache takes over him, but it somehow painless, so he ignores it and hugs the pretty photographer back. He breathes Harry’s smell; since it’s the highest place he can manage to get because of the height difference. His body against Louis' feels different. Good different.

Usually men don't hug Louis. He comes from society of polite and mostly cold people, who their only physical touch with each other is hand shake. It only occurs to him to hug Eleanor, and this happens only when she’s in a good mood.  

"I’ve texted you yesterday." Harry said casually as he lets go, but still keep his enormous hands on Louis’ hips. It’s feels good. The protection of other body around him is something Louis long since experienced. Harry’s face is close. Almost too close for Louis’ own good.

He can hear Harry tries to keep his voice light as much as possible. However, it doesn’t work so well for him. Louis wonders if Harry’s voice would’ve sounded like this if he knew how his statement makes Louis feel.

Harry didn’t forget about him, even if he couldn’t show it at the hospital for some unknown reason, he didn’t forget.

"That’s strange.." Louis states, "But I was in bed most of the day, so maybe Eleanor saw your messages and decided to let me sleep. Sorry ‘bout that."

Harry manages to lets out a tiny smile, but this smile is a sad and kind of _knowing_ smile, “That’s ok. I just wanted to ask how you are you feeling.”

Louis blinks a few times; maybe too slowly so Harry can easily think he’s doing it on purpose, suddenly remembers he’s still in Harry’s personal space and that it overly dangerous to be near those big and full lips, so he backs off gently, leave more decent space between them, even that he regrets his decision right away, and judge to the pout on Harry’s face, it seems that he does too.

"Umm, I’m good. Not dying yet." Louis grins back, reflects Harry, but then remembered what he wanted to clarify with Harry.

"Eleanor said you left ‘cause you had to get some stuff going at your home or something like that?" Louis furrows his eyebrows, showing he’s listening curiously.

Harry’s green ones becomes melancholy sad just like they've been before Louis came barging into the studio. But he grins. Always grin to cover what his eyes hiding. And Louis doesn’t like that. He wanted that people will stop hiding things from him especially Harry who seems to know more about Louis than he knows about himself.

"You can say that."

The green sticks to the floor now, not daring to meet the blue.

They are quiet for a few seconds and it’s too much awkward and unlike them, so Louis asks, “Where is everyone?”

Harry looks like the new path the conversation takes makes it easier on him. “Liam finished the shooting with the other models yesterday so he took a day off. And that leaves me and you.” Harry lifts him head up to meet Louis’ site again and all Louis wants right now is to kiss those full lips and to open his eyes while doing it and to see the green looking at him in the same passion and _want_ he radiates- but no. He has Eleanor, and he’s not supposed to imagine stuff like that towards anyone but her, let alone a man. Not _supposed_ to.

He gapes at Harry for a few seconds, the silence takes over them again. Louis doesn’t know what cause that. And he surely doesn’t like to be distance and awkward with the brunette man.

Then he recalls what Harry said. The other models are finished shooting. That means this is the last day or one of the lasts. Louis’ attempt to let the fact sink into his consciousness fails measurably.   

Harry smiles a bit at him and pointes towards the known room. “Come on, we have work to do.”

Louis follows him to the small room and gets into business. He organizes himself, put one new pair of glasses on and hears Harry speak, but he never thought Harry could say something like that. Especially not to him. He seems rather shy, quiet and Louis is pretty sure he’s married too.

"You know, it was a shame that you had that attack the other day."

Louis smiles amusedly. Harry doesn’t talk about the obvious reasons, and Louis wonders what it possibly can be. 

"Why?" He watches Harry who stands in the other side of the room, preparing the camera, blush rises to his cheeks. 

"You’ve no idea how hot you look with those glasses." The low voice mumbles.

Louis sense himself blush as well, and that’s weird. He’s quite used to the fact that people flatter him, telling him that he looks good, even men, so why it has to be like that with Harry?

His throat clutches tight and he can’t think about decent comment so he just smiles and steps to the stage’s center as still blushing. Harry embeds at the digital camera screen he chose, pressing on its buttons.

Louis waits for him to finish, in the meantime thinking why Harry doesn’t consider becoming a model himself than to be always the one behind the scenes. He’s got the body, the face, and Louis thinks it’s such a waste that no one can be impressed by Harry the way he does.

"Are you sure you feel good enough for this?" Harry asks, camera finally ready for use.

"Yeah, I’m fine."

The latter eyes Louis doubtfully, but shrugs.

"Um.. So what actually caused your attack?" Harry picks up the camera in his hands to his site and the flashes continue like nothing happens between the first days they captured Louis until today.

Louis tires to remember the new instructions Harry explained him that day, about being comfortable and how to walk on stage, but that’s all he remembers, and it’s just makes another headache to appear, so he leaves it and tries to act normal. The way he acts around Harry.

Louis can see the insecurity in the photographer’s eyes and smiles softly. He doesn’t understand why Harry feels the need to be nerves near him, to mumble around him, to hide things away from him. It doesn’t right and Louis wants from Harry to be comfortable near him as he around Harry.

"It’s just.." Harry hurries to add, "Your doctor said I have to ask a permission from you and since I.. um, well, left early, I thought maybe you can lighten me now?"

Louis swears he never heard Harry talk this fast.

His smile gets wider and he chuckles, “That’s ok, mate. Doc said that sometimes when I trying to recall some events from my forgotten past, it does provoke my brain and its having a little breakdown. That’s the whole deal.”

Harry hums quietly at response, but apart from that he simply stops talking. Just takes photos for whole hour without lets out one small word from his mouth. His expression is total blank. His eyes gaze straight at Louis without the usual spark in his eyes, and Louis can't but wonder what caused that. It’s because he told Harry about what produce the amnesia attack? And if so, why it bothers him so much?

Louis assumes that he does do the right thing and walks right, smiles right, act right, because Harry doesn’t tell him to act differently.

But Louis doesn't like it. Really doesn't like it, and in that pace they’ll finish the shooting in minutes and Louis isn’t ready for that. For saying goodbye to Harry. Especially not in the strange condition they’re in now.

Then Harry snaps. He blinks a couple of times and appoints the camera on the table next to him, and rubs his eyes. Louis doesn’t know if it’s because some stupid reason, like if he’s got something in his eye, or if he’s just tired, or if it’s because what Louis told him. Louis doesn’t know anything about this, and he feels like he doesn’t know anything at all. All he knows is that he wants to make Harry relax. He gets off the stage and feels like he’s in his teen years, in auditions and he wants to comfort very young boy _._

_It’s going to be ok. I know you can do it. They’re all gonna love you. Can I take your autograph?_

But unfortunately, it’s not that case. And teen Louis and teen Harry belong to other life.

He steps closer to Harry, and Harry is just so _tall,_ and Louis is not sure how to makes him to be aware of his presence.

"I caused you that." He hears Harry whispers, mostly to himself.

So, he talks about the attack.

"No, Harry, that’s not true. It happens to me all the time; it’s not because of you." Louis replies, softly as possible.

And it did happen to him as he told, but it’s not a total truth, because he had those attacks only in the first days after the accident. But it’s absolutely not Harry’s fault. Louis could’ve done the same conversation with anyone else. The only fault should be on Louis’ twisted brain (or on the idiot driver for that matter).

He places one hand on Harry’s arm, trying to make him understand that it's definitely not his fault. Harry jumps and yelps in pain, hand cover the place Louis just touched almost like Louis scratched or nipped him there.

"Harry, wha.. What happened?" He asks surprised by the taller man. "I barely touched you.."

Harry bites his lip and looks at Louis, the physical hurt still in his eyes.

"It’s not you.. It’s just.." The hurt exchanges with hesitation. Then it exchanges with determination. "It doesn’t matter."

Louis steps closer to him, “What is it? Can you tell me?” He asks softly.

Something in Louis’ look must convinced Harry. He sighs, mumbles an ‘okay’ and Louis watches him takes his shirt off. Take his shirt off, yeah. Louis has never been attracted to men before. However, as he observes Harry’s bare abdomen, he can’t but want, wish his lips were all over Harry.

"It’s just that.. I got two tattoos the day you were at the hospital, and they still hurt. So.."

Harry puts one enormous hand on his arm, looks at it. The day Louis was at the hospital? That’s what he had to do after he left? Was it this important to him that he couldn’t clear another day to do it and to stay with Louis?

Louis takes small step to get a better look and smiles once he catches a glimpse at the red on the edges tattoo.

"That's cool." He smiles softly, "You can show it to people on the street and the will think you’re greeting them in some weird way."

Harry smiles weak smile, and turns, points at the other tattoo on his left hand, now says ‘oops’. The biceps. Louis hums, leaking his lips, hopes Harry doesn’t notice that. Tattooed Harry is much hotter than anyone can be with tattoos. And the fact that look on his body almost ironically compares to his shy personality only makes it better.

"What about this one?" Harry asks, biting his lips again, nervously.

"I like that too. But.. Like.. There’s any meaning behind them?" Harry stares at Louis for a good few seconds, seems to be aware to the fact that sooner or later he’ll tell the stubborn man what he wants to hear.

He sighs, head to the floor, while Louis wonders again why it’s so hard for people to just _talk_ honestly with him.

"You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want too." He crosses his hands over his chest.

"No. I do. It’s just.. Hard I guess." Louis meets the green, now much calmer than before, and Louis is remarkably happy he succeeded to make Harry forget his mistaken thoughts from before.

Harry looks at him straight in his eyes, not daring to avert them away, and neither do Louis.

Louis is positive the tattoos meaning has nothing to do with him, obviously (how they can be) but then there’re Harry’s eyes.

They reflect everything inside Harry. All the things he’s trying to hide floating without control. He’s kind of people who simply can’t hold emotions, he radiates them to his surroundings, and Louis has this feeling that even if Harry would’ve tried he couldn’t stop himself from doing that.

He is so different from Eleanor by so many aspects.

Most of the time (always), she envelopes herself in a thick shell, doesn’t let anyone to see what’s going on inside her, eyes cold, show exactly and only what she wants them to show. So different. Louis knows Eleanor bent through a lot in her life, and Harry’s eyes tell him he is too. Louis can say he’s with them in this ship, and that’s why he’ll prefer people like Harry. Uncomplicated people, who can share, who can be trusted.

"Well, um. Stop me if it sounded stupid. Alright?"

Louis nods without question, even though he knows he won’t stop Harry. Never in a million years.

"It’s like.. Three years ago I met some.. man, at my wedding day.. And we sort of made out at the toilet over there. And-"

"You? Harry Styles? Goes for men?" Louis’ mind burned with questions. When they met Harry seemed to him like the straightest guy on the planet. Since then it's been proven otherwise, but still. And this guy he met.. Who is he? And why it can’t be Louis? Why he couldn’t meet Harry there three years ago? Maybe it would’ve changed a Louis’ life a bit. Maybe he could’ve find what he feels missing all this time.

Harry chuckles sadly, “No. I’m not. But this guy was special.”

His eyes sparkle with something Louis can’t pinpoint and then the tall man adds, “Still is.”

"So you met him again?" Louis questioned, steps even more closer.

Harry nods slowly, "yeah. But it's complicated." The emerald wants so badly to tell Louis why it’s complicated, he can feel it, but its only show emotions, not the past, and all Louis can see in it now is sadness and something more. But he’s too tired from guessing and pushing, so he just going to take what Harry will give him.

For now, anyways.

"Then what it has to do with the tattoos?"

Harry disconnected his eyes, now his legs are the most interesting thing in the world, “They are the first words we said to each other.”

The meaning behind the tattoos overwhelmed Louis. If he thought Harry was sensitive, it’s nothing compares to what he thinks about him now.

Louis wants, needs, someone like Harry, who will remember stuff like first words, the exact location and time of first kiss, and someone who will show him he loves him. He’s hundred present sure Harry know how to show love. That his full and so red lips know how to show love.

"He’s really special to you, isn’t he?" Louis can’t think about anything better to say, but Harry accepts his words and replies, simply says, "This guy changed my life." He shrugs. "I just still don’t know if it’s for better or for worse."

Louis wishes he had one of the following options; or to kill this guy, whoever he is, or to be instead of him. Instead of him, he decided. Even though, both options are tempting.

Louis wishes for another thing so badly. To kiss Harry. To ravish his body right now and there. But he can’t. Too many walls standing between them, adding to the equation the unknown man, it’s impossible even from Harry’s side. And that kills Louis.

* * *

 

(20:08)

_Just found out there is a problem with the camera. So all the photos from today went out blurry. Can u come again tomorrow?_

(20:09)

_Sure. Same time?_

(20:10)

_Yeah. Sorry bout that._

(20:11)

_No need._

* * *

 

Louis enters to the studio the next morning feels rather blessed.

They finished all their work yesterday, but something prevents them too. Louis doesn’t care he worked for nothing, he just want to spend more time with Harry. He doesn't care about the money. He has enough for his entire life anyway.

Yeah, even if Harry looks like he’s in love with that toilet guy. Even if nothing will come out from the time they spend together.

Harry’s company just makes him feel.. alive? Yeah, he thinks that’s the word. And besides, Harry makes him curious. He wants to know more. About his eyes, about his past, about his lips. To learn how they can kiss. The corner of his mind who was concerned about Eleanor tiredness and vomiting which happened again this morning forgotten the second he’s at the main hall.

Just like yesterday, there’s no one except Louis in there, but unlike yesterday, there’s laptop on one of the tables.

Louis steps closer, doesn’t have anything better to do, and see there’s a file open in it.

He observes it closely and surprisingly sees the name of the file is _"Boo bear shoots"_.

Louis gulps and gapes at the screen for a few seconds. How Harry possibly could know his childhood name?

He didn’t tell it even to Eleanor of the fear she’ll laugh at him. Maybe he mumbled it when he was unconscious?

It doesn’t seem like logical explanation, though. And what’s equally weird is that in the file there are the photos Harry took of him yesterday.

And they look perfect. HD even. Not blurry like Harry said at in the text.

Louis’ mind is blank. More thoughts that he can handle.

Harry told him that because he wanted them to keep meeting? Because he doesn’t want this to end like Louis doesn’t?

If so, Louis is going to help him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited for lack of time because of my tiring exams.. I'll fix it soon, promise :)

Harry never felt more alive in his life.

Sure, he feels super embarrassed, seriously self-conscious to his figure and looks, and the sweat stars to make its way to his back, his cheeks and neck red from blood that rose to it, but there’s excitement in this blood, and maybe a bit of fond, too.

He didn’t know, didn’t experienced to be in the other side of the camera lens, never believe that someone would want to take pictures of _him_ , the quite photographer, who doesn’t spear more than two seconds in front of the mirror in the mornings.

But this. _Him_.

To stand in front of his long time crash, that happened to be long time model, while he holding one of his precious cameras (which he doesn’t let anyone touch, but it’s Louis, and he really can’t say no to him), and takes photos of him, well, it’s not occasion Harry expected to be in his daily routine.

He feels weird standing there. Uncomfortable. Too tall, too lanky.

Models, or people who simply stand in front of some camera in Harry’s case, supposed to look exactly like Louis. With compact body, curves in all the right places, with perfect face and matching perfect ass. Adding to that Louis’ magnetic personality and eyes, Harry thinks he might explode of how much he wants him. Needs him even.

He doesn’t know how he got past those last three years. Every day was to wake for another day at work, another day to live with woman he didn’t even loved anymore, not after he bent through something that was more significant than all the years he was with Jamie. Way more significant.

He does feel alive when he’s with Louis. He really does.

The only thing that bothers he is that Louis doesn’t know that he’s the toilet guy. That he’s the one he got the tattoos for, that he’s the one who changed his live, that he’s the one he just can’t stay away from.  

He wanted to tell him. Wants to tell him so badly. Wants to kiss him until he’ll light their insides on fire, until Louis will say he is Harry’s. Until that beautiful man will say he loves him.

But he can’t.

There’s Eleanor. Everywhere, anywhere. Harry is a decent man, and as much as he wants her husband, he isn’t going to ruin their marriage. No matter how much their marriage isn’t fair to Louis. No matter that Louis doesn’t know he doesn’t know he was forced to marry her. He’s not going to be the reason to their divorce. Harry isn’t going to say anything to Louis that’ll make him and Eleanor divorce.   

However, if Louis will show he wants Harry, that’s a whole different story. If he will (Harry does love being optimistic when it comes to be about Louis), he’ll kiss him and tell him everything and will show him love. That’s all he wants. This, and to make him happy, of course. Make him laugh and to be able to hear it ring in his ears every second for the rest of his life. Their life.   

The idea of how earning more time with the smaller curvy model came to him yesterday evening. To tell the latter that the photos came out blurry and there you go- a whole new day with Louis, all to himself.

However he didn’t expect that Louis will ask with cute pouty lips him to model for him. Or to stand awkwardly in front of the camera. He agreed because he really _really_ can’t say no to Louis, and in addition, it’ll give them more time together. If Harry wouldn’t know any better he would think Louis planed this or something. Seriously.  

Louis situates in front of him, lips pouting in thinking, soft mischievous cerulean blue eyes gaze at him. They show a bit smug, maybe for the successful attempt to convince the tall man to model, but also calm and soft. Harry is one hundred percent sure Louis have no idea he doesn’t help subtract Harry’s embarrassment and pressure by that. It actually does exactly the opposite effect on Harry.

Louis probably tries to make it better for Harry, but it really doesn’t help when those eyes stare at him that way, when this beautiful from the inside out person look at him like that. Instead of smiling and being cool in front of him, he can only freeze and almost shake.

He can’t complain, anyway. Those hours with Louis are the best he had in a very long time. The ray of sunshine of his days, really.

"Harry!" The sunshine snaps one of his fingers, and snaps Harry from his thoughts, while he realizes he gaped at the small model all this time.

Now the cerulean full with amusement and a little bit irritate. But not really. Harry knows that Louis isn’t really capable of that. Anger and fury aren’t one of his qualities.

He doesn’t want to take all the credit to himself, but he noticed that there a difference between the Louis he seen at the restaurant the other day, the one he that was in the studio for the first time, and between the Louis that’s in front of him now. This Louis has more light in his eyes. He has no idea how to describe it- but he likes the change. And if it because of him (he does love being optimistic with it comes to Louis), than he likes it even more.

The tiny crinkles in his eyes, the auburn sweep of hair, the smile. Obviously this new train of thoughts led him to gape at Louis for another couple of seconds and he gathers he turns out to be complete idiot.

"Um.. Wha- oh um.. sorry." He mumbles, blushes even deeper that before.

Louis smile lopsided smile and chuckles. Harry wishes he could say he did it fondly. It _does_ rather impossible to believe that Louis will love him one day.

He watches intensely how Louis put the camera aside and steps closer to him until they’re in gap touch. That’s very bad move ‘cause all Harry’s body and skin ache to touch the small model, to feel how his soft skin feel under his fingertips, and even more than before if that’s even possible.

The umbrella light effect remarkably on Louis face, like everything else in this world, really, on his skin, hair, and even worse, cause to Louis lips even redder and practically begging to be kissed.

He looks so far and unreachable, from other league, maybe some kind of an angel. Louis is nice, and funny and down to earth, however it doesn’t stop Harry from thinking that he doesn’t deserve him, that’s there’s no way in the world he can have him. It’s quite depressing, but after three years he’s not going to give up and lose hope. He _did_ find him. That was a miracle itself, who says other can’t happen?

The huge warm eyes observe him again, now much more closely, scan all over his face and then focus on his eyes. Like he tries to understand something.

"Can I ask you something?" He asks, the look stays in his eyes.

Harry’s answer is well expected.

"Of course, Lou. What is it?"

The nick-name escapes from his lips unintentionally. ‘Lou’ is much better than ‘Boobear’. The latter leads the questions Harry doesn’t ready to answer yet. Can’t answer yet.

"Why are you so nervous about this?" He asks simply.

Harry stares at him for couple of seconds, not exactly understands what Louis tries to achieve with this question.

"Well.. I guess, I just.. Not like you. I’m too tall, quite weird, I have no idea what to do with my hands, how to stand-"

Louis places two small hands on his shoulders. That’s makes him more or less to shut up completely.

"You know why I asked this from you, Harry?" Harry shakes his head so Louis continues, "It was because I wanted you to solve exactly this problem of yours."

Harry looks at him, wide eyed, “What problem?”

"That you don’t appreciate yourself enough. No, actually you don’t appreciate yourself at all." He moves his hands from Harry’s shoulders closer to his neck. Harry really tries not to groan from frustration.

The petite model waits for a few seconds and was about to continue when Harry adds, whispers more like, stares into the studio floor, he can feel that some of him curls touch Louis’ forehead as he does so, “What’s here to appreciate?”

He suddenly feels devastated. This person, this amazing blue eyed man, just found his weakness, and that’s something no one ever found. Ever questioned Harry how he feels about his look, about his oh so boring life.

He didn’t feel special since he could remember himself. This regular guy with average hair, education and salary. Even average wife, as bad as it sounds. So he understood that probably there’s people who worthy to speak to him how they want, to humiliate him, because they’re more special than him. That’s why he thinks thousand times before he speak, that why he let Jamie control him, let Eleanor threaten him, make him stay away from Louis.

He was about to wipe away the wetness in his eyes before Louis rises one of his delicate hands and does it. Carefully. Gently.

Harry almost feels loved. Almost.

"What to appreciate? Umm.." Louis hums in fake consideration, "Maybe your gorgeous green eyes? They full with so much you it makes me crazy sometimes to be honest.." He ducks his head a bit and bites his lip, "And maybe your adorable freckles?"

This special, pretty man actually likes how he looks? This must be some kind of a dream. His voice is so soft and melodic and there’s nothing more beautiful than him in the world for Harry. Those two sky-blue pools penetrate into his soul like no one ever did.   

 But Louis didn’t finished.

"And we can’t forget about the curls right?" He adds with adorable lopsided chuckle, "You’re tall, yeah, but that’s quite blessed, believe me I know what I’m talking about. I wish I would be in your height instead of being in Eleanor’s." Harry stiffens a bit by the mention of her name, but Louis just compliments him so he really can’t be bother by that.

"You have quite the nose," Louis adds, smiles warmly, crinkles in the eyes and all, "but that’s not a problem, really. The rest of your face totally helped you with that." Harry can’t help but laugh watery laugh, and smile shy smile while Louis keeps talking, determined to show Harry his point, "I can’t stop to look at you sometimes and you just act like you’re the ugliest person in the entire world." He says, sounds frustrated, "So you tell me, what’s here not to like?" He pauses for a second, "What’s here not to love?"

They stare in each other few lasting moments, Louis’ hand still on Harry’s cheek, caress it slowly.

Harry doesn’t think he knows how to speak anymore.

"No one ever said that stuff to me. Ever." He chocks out, he himself have no ideas how. "Thank you." He never thanked someone more sincerely that’s for sure.

Louis smiles shyly, tiny smile that says everything to Harry.

He thinks he might be in love.

That’s if he wasn’t since the second the same man in front of him run from the loo the other day more than three years ago.   

"You better step back." He barely breathes. Perhaps afraid to smell him and to be more intoxicated.

Louis looks confused and maybe there’s a bit hurt in his eyes.

"Why?" He asks, lovely eyebrows frown. He’s just so lovely.  

"Because if you’ll keep standing there I might kiss you." He whispered it in a way that he doesn’t even sure if Louis heard him, but as he eyes Louis and notices how the cerulean turn to look at his lips, to consider it Harry hopes, he knows he heard.

He can’t help thinking, It’s _about to happen_. _Finally_. He’ll do it, Harry will crush him into the near wall, like they did all those years ago, but unlike then, and they will be together and run away from this entire world. Just them. Not depressing and liar women anyway close to them. No more seeing Eleanor next to his Louis. _His_ Louis.

However, eventually Louis’ eyes turn away from Harry’s lips and he blinked a few times. The spell broke.

Harry did expect it. But it hurt so badly.

Louis smiles a bit widely, head towards the floor, and steps back to his previous location.

"If you’ll be good boy we’ll discuss it later." He winks and picks the camera again. Harry froze in his place and feels his blood make its way to his cheeks, fill them up.

Who the hell invent the sarcasm?

"Jump, smile, scream, twirl, just do whatever you like. Be yourself. It’s only me. Alright?"

"It’s not only you.." The tall man replies while gaping at the latter man. No it’s not only him. Because he’s way more than just a person to Harry. He’s practically his hope and comfort in life.

Louis doesn’t comment on that and shrugged. And just like that, Harry doesn’t afraid anymore. At least in the meantime, here, in front of this boy, he doesn’t. He has no idea what will come next, and it doesn’t matter. The only thing he can think about while looking at this man that stole his heart so strangely three years ago, is that he’s happy. For the first time in a very long season.

Louis holds the camera again and raises it to his face. As the first flash, hits, Harry bent down and laughs loudly, clutches his abdomen with his hands like he did it his entire life. He watched the models do it so many times, and never thought he can do this himself. Maybe he just needed someone to show him he can. He heard Louis laugh through the camera and it only encourages him more. 

He straightened and this time flicks his mop of curls and winks at the camera. Well, at Louis.

"Don’t get ahead of yourself curly man. I’m not this easily seduced." Louis chuckles and Harry smiles the biggest smile he can form on his face, giggle quietly.

Suddenly, in the middle of their laugh and euphoria, soft lullaby rings and it came from Louis’ direction. Harry stared at the curvy model, now photographer, as he takes out his phone from his very tight jeans pocket. He did notice the jeans.

He recognized the ringtone. He’ll recognize it anywhere he guesses. Almost every night, when he crashed on the living room couch, he listened to this song. It gave him hope for better days. And they came. Comes, he thinks.

He wonders why Louis decided to pick this song as his ringtone.

"I love this song." He lets out while Louis’ finger hovers over his phone screen, looks hesitated if to answer the call or not.

Louis glances back at him, and they stay in their silent for a few seconds, only the quite song plays between them.

_If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lay with me, and just forget the world?_

Harry can’t help but imagine how it would be like to dance with Louis to this song. Any song will be good, but especially this one. He used to gaze at the ceiling and wonder what the pretty sad man do, if he loves his wife now, if he remember Harry. So this song will be perfect.

He can feel his hands on Louis’ hips, swing them to the music, his fingers almost meet at the middle, Louis hands around his neck, huge blue eyes, soft fringe, and he’ll go on his tiptoes and his lips will be so dangerously close-

"You know what?" The boy he just mentally danced with says while putting his phone back in his pocket, "Today it’s just you and me."

Harry smiles warmly at him in return, his cheek flashes. He really can’t control his action near Louis.

"Okay."

* * *

  


Harry didn’t plan this. He really didn’t. But when they both heard the door locked by someone from outside that can only be Liam, Harry couldn’t be gladder.

However he didn’t told Louis he has a key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have only one more chapter typed, and after that it'll be a while I guess.. BUT comments keeps me motivated so.. comment I want to know what you think guys ! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He has those beautiful huge blue eyes, which I’m sure tones of people already told him about." Harry murmurs but at the same time staring decisiveness into Louis. Louis knows it’s weird, it’s utterly and completely weird but it’s almost looks like Harry is talking about him. It’s crazy, he's aware. He’s also aware that Harry is talking about the guy he made out with, but the way he looks at Louis, in such intensity he nearly can’t breathe, proves otherwise.

Louis thinks he’s going to go crazy.

How this adorable, talented, beautiful man is even able to think there’s nothing to love in him? Louis can’t think of even one thing to dislike in this man, no less to hate about him.

He can’t consider farther than that, though. Not yet. Not now when Eleanor is in or _still_ in the picture. As much as Harry attract him in all the aspects of the word, he won’t do this to her. He’s not this kind of man. He thinks so at least. The conflict between his loyalty to Eleanor and his absolute want and even need of Harry near him is getting stronger and more difficult every minute, every second he’s next to this green eyed photographer.

And now they’re locked together in one room.

He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket again; the third time in two minutes, not even bothers to see who it is. He knows its Eleanor anyway. He wonders when he stopped jumping around to everything she says. They’ll talk later, one way or another.

The other reason why he doesn’t answer is that Harry will remember Louis has his phone with him and will ask why they just don’t call someone to ‘rescue’ them. However, Louis doesn’t see it happen. Harry _did_ want to kiss him, so he won’t resist locked in one room with him, right?  By the satisfied expression and smugness on Harry’s face Louis guess it probably doesn’t bother him too much. Louis himself can’t care less.

But some questions must be asked.

"Do you have Liam’s number maybe? Or phone as least?" Louis questions, bite his bottom lip nervously.

Harry looks at his lips for a few seconds, distracted, and Louis feels himself fill with triumph already.

Then Harry looks up at him, and his eyes fill with some kind of spark, and Louis knows the answer that’s about to come.

"No, never bothered to remember it when it’s saved in my phone," they both aware that it’s a lie, by the almost quick way he replied, which Louis learned that’s really not Harry-like. And he likes that. The way Harry’s voice trails slowly and deeply, as he thinks of every word he says ten times before he actually says it. It’s endearing. "And it’s in the other room anyway." He finishes with a shrug; the same expression in his face. Louis almost sighs in relief, but then Harry furrows; tiny frown between his eyebrows, teeth nips in his bottom lip what is most likely hesitation. 

"You probably want to call someone to get us out of here, right?" Harry looks down at his legs, pushes the right one backwards on its heel.

Louis doesn’t like to lie, but right now its sounds like the perfect opportunity to do that. “My phone is dead.” He shrugs, malice smile spread on his lips.

He can’t help but smirk when he sees how wide smile and dimples form on Harry’s face. A bit giddy from the inside.

"So I guess we’ll just have to wait for someone to come, right?"

Louis returns big smile of his own, “Yeah, probably.”

They both know it means another day can be together, and this time, all alone.

Right now, standing in front of this man, Louis understands he can’t stay away. He also couldn’t stay away when Harry whispered to him then, with soft pink lips, that he might kiss him. But the only problem was that he thought of Eleanor. Or more correctly, thought about how he couldn’t do that to her. That she doesn't deserve this. 

Once, when people asked about her, he smiled warmly and spoke lightly about her. But right now, every time she comes to his mind, it all feels fake. He doesn’t even know what caused this change, this almost absolute change. He still holds gratitude towards her, she did help him a lot, especially after the accident, but that’s it. He finally realizes.

He can’t see himself have babies and rise them up with her. He doesn’t want to see that. Those children will be treated coldly, surrounded by nannies and servants, never with real mum love.

He certainly doesn’t want that for them.

Through his thoughts and doubts and confusion, one scene he once thought about clarifies it all.

Slow gravelly voice wakes him up in the morning, blankets and big arm all over him, something shakes him weakly from the other direction, he spins around in the covers and under the arm, and see adorable little girl with brown curls and much to his surprise, cerulean eyes.

* * *

 

"Haz, I’m hungry."

They sank on the white leather couch, bodies tend towards each other (the only couch in the room, Louis mentally noted, wondered what they’re going to do if they’ll have to spend the night there, he kind of hopes they will).

It’s been five hours since, and Louis tried to keep his stomach from grumbling, because Harry certainly doesn’t need to give him food on top of bringing him without any reason to the studio. But there is nothing he can do to stop it, so he just told him.

His stomach flatters when he sees the reply smile Harry sends him at the nickname (Louis couldn’t think of other nickname, its fita him so well. Kinda homie. Haz).

Harry twists his nose in concentration. “We have some snacks in the other room if you want.”

Louis is around British people all his life, but Harry’s voice makes their accent so much _deeper_ , god.

Louis looks at him with brows raised, trying to ignore the flutters in his stomach, “We’re locked, Harold.”

Harry grins shyly, scratch the back of his neck, mumbles, “right..”

Louis places his elbows on his knees, thinking.

He was about to say that he can stay hungry for a couple of hours, but then Harry uttered, “Then what now?”

And his voice is so full with worry, and when Louis looks at him again it doubles, like it somehow his fault that Louis is hungry.

He needs to make that look on Harry’s face disappear. Louis loves his dimples too much to see them missing. And besides, Harry can’t be this worry over nothing. It actually scares Louis how much harry cares about him sometimes. He also scares about losing him for good, for thinking with his head and not with his heart.

Going with his heart this time sounds good.

Without saying a word, he takes out his phone from his pocket (Eleanor called at least 5 more times at that time, and the vibrating phone makes him want to pee above everything else).

He picks his head up and joys delightfully from the look of utter shock on Harry.  

"So.. I’ve heard about that new Mexican place the other day. Wanna check it out?"

The shock replaced by wild wide grin, and sparkling green eyes.

He finds himself chuckle softly in surprise until he was about to search the restaurant’s number in his phone and recall that the door is still _locked_ and the food can’t magically appear in the studio room. The chuckle turns into pout.

"What?" Harry asks obliviously.

"We’re _still_ locked, Hazza.” He shakes his head fondly, watches the expression on the taller lad’s face becomes blank, but then a dimple-sheepish smile break across his face.

"Well, in this case," exclaimed while sends large hand into his back pants pocket, "I think I can help."

Louis takes couple of seconds to catch what Harry is holding in front of him. It a key chain. Few small silver keys attached to it.

It takes him another couple of seconds to gather exactly what that means.

Harry has the keys to the studio with him, and he didn’t tell him because he wanted them to stay together as long as they can. Maybe it should bother him, he does have a wife, but it really doesn’t. The truth is that he’s happy. He really is. He’s happy and giddy from inside.

He takes the keys from Harry, does it as slowly as he can, can’t help but brush his thumb over Harry’s knuckles at the process.

Harry smiles a bit wider at that, dimples more emphasized, the green glinting at the white light in the room.

Louis thinks he really is beautiful.

And he got to have him all day all to himself.

He notices how small and delicate his hand looks compares to Harry’s quite big mescaline one, long fingers.

Suddenly he figures he wants nothing more than to stand on his tiptoes and to kiss those full rosy lips, big hands behind his back, enveloping him. He thinks he would like to be the smaller one for a change.

With Eleanor he felt smaller at times and that scared the hell out of him. With Harry it’s different. With Harry he can see himself enjoying it.

It’s so easy to forget sometimes Harry have someone else in his mind.

"So we have lunch then." Louis summaries, sends lopsided smile to the tall guy with the kissable lips.

"What about some tacos, Lou?"

* * *

 

"If you don’t mind me asking," Harry starts, bites his grilled taco, big hands holds it tightly, "Who called you?"

Louis doesn’t mind telling him, this is a tiny detail compares to the rest Harry knows about him. Knows almost as much as Louis knows about himself if he’s honest.

"I don’t mind," He answers, small smile in the corner of his lips, next to it a bit mayo from his taco, "It was Eleanor." He takes another bite while observing Harry’s response.

Harry nods slowly, his facial expression already become oddly familiar to Louis, the same one every time he mentions her.

His eyes mixed with pain, unexplained hate, sadness, but especially helplessness involved.

Louis wishes to know so badly why and how his wife has such effect on Harry, who saw her only at the restaurant at their anniversary for what he’s aware, but he doesn’t want to ask. Harry will tell him if he can. He’s sure of it.

"Do you know what she wants?" Instead of biting his sandwich Harry begins biting his bottom lip.

"Whatever it can be," He rolls his eyes and smiles mischievously, "It won’t keep me away from you. Don’t worry."

"That’s umm.. Good." Comes the reply, followed by shy blush and dimples, and Louis finds he’s probably look the same (except the dimples. Louis would kill for dimples like Harry’s).

They stay in comfortable silence, and Louis trails his eyes completely casually and without any purpose, over Harry’s fingers saw the thin silver ring around one of Harry’s long lanky fingers, and wants to know more.

"So what’s her name, then?"

"My wife you mean?" It sounds like Harry takes a bit effort to answer, like it takes him effort to stay collected and with normal facial expression.

"Yeah, well as if you have another woman I should know about?"

Harry blushes at that and tilted his head down, “Jamie.” He sighs, looking up, however only staring blankly at the wall in front of him, “Jamie _Watson_.” His mouth grimaces at that, and Louis thinks it’s incredible unlike him, “And I have with her enough problems for seven wives, believe me.” He mumbles, leans against the couch armrest, closing his eyes.

It surprises Louis. He guessed Harry doesn’t live happily ever after with his wife, but he didn’t expect the pain and bitter expression.

"What happened?" He approaches closer to him on the couch; knees attached, their tacos long forgotten, places one hand on Harry’s knee.

Harry froze immediately at that, and just when Louis was about to move, he opened his eyes, looking at him so softly and so differently than how he looked at the wall when he thought of his wife, that Louis almost feels paralyzed. It gets much stronger when Harry places his hand over Louis’ tightly, while looking at the latter.

It’s not something platonic friends do, but they never were friends for some reason, they skipped straight away to the lovers’ part. And it’s nice and comforting, and Louis wouldn’t like it in any other way.

"I didn’t really want to marry her, you know?" Harry admits finally, not daring to look into Louis’ eyes. Louis holds his breathe wants to stroke the large hand so badly, comfort him but harry presses his hand on his small one too tightly, so Louis couldn’t find a will to move it.

"Then why did you?" he breathes, nearly whispers.

He doesn’t know why it was important to him suddenly, but it does, it really does. Like he wanted to know it for ages and never got the opportunity to ask.

"They expected me to do that." Harry blurts. "We are, or well, its feels like we _were_ together long since I can remember.” The sentences flies from his mouth now, like he can’t stop once he started, “She was the only one I knew. My first everything.” He stops for a second, inhales, then continues, “We were neighbors, our families knew each other for years, and that was only something we required to do, I guess.” He smiles bitterly, looking at his lap.  

Louis never saw him like this. Not even when he mentioned Eleanor. And that scares him. His sudden and utter care for Harry scares him too, but mostly its because he hates seeing him so devastated, so melancholy.

He was digest in those thoughts that he didn’t notice that a thumb begins to stroke his interlocked hand.

He eyes their intertwined hands and flutters begin to develop in his belly. Harry is the one who needs the comfort and the attentiveness right now. Not him.  

He has never had this excitement over the first touches with Eleanor. She just bent there. Been with him all the time since he can remember (and in his case, it’s really since he can _actually_ remember). He never felt those little butterflies in the pit of this stomach, or this giddy sensation. He was pretty sure that’s what love feels like.

His train of thoughts is cut by Harry’s next words, “I loved her, I guess.” He pauses, eyes Louis hesitantly to say his next words, “But I never was _in love_ with her.”

And his eyes are big and green and somehow pleading, pleading Louis to understand million things he can’t even begining to.

Why that car crash must happened?

"Loved?" He has to clarify at least one thing in this chaos.

Bashful blush spreads promptly across Harry’s upper cheeks, and he hurries to look down again.

Louis thinks it’s unbelievably adorable.

"Let’s just say I can’t keep certain someone out of my mind the second I married her." He mumbles, eyes still strain on his lap, the slight movement with his thumb stops much to Louis disapproval. His stomach clenches light at that, his lips in thigh line. It was so easy to forget about _him_ when all he could feel and sense and hear was Harry, nobody else in the world.

"Probably not the smartest idea to get married after meeting him, hah?" He replies, quite dryly.

Harry blinks, sending one more sad small smiles, “Yeah, probably not.”

It’s not like Louis is fully satisfied from his marriage, but he’s sure that if he would be in Harry’s situation, he would divorce right away. Not that he can judge him. He knows only the tiniest bit about Harry’s life.

He knows that Harry’s less advantage qualities are that he’s shy, a bit quiet and compromising. Maybe this is one of the reasons. To Louis’ eyes all the taller lad’s qualities are great, but he’s assumed that those might bring Harry some displeased situations.

They stay in comfortable silence for a few minutes; in the meantime Louis pushes his hand for between Harry’s one and knee, smiles apologetically at him, while finishing up his taco. Harry does the same, and Louis finds he hadn’t been in a place far away from all London’s elite in a long time until now. He likes it that he can be himself, with mayo on his face and lettuce between his teeth and don’t care about it at all.

That’s really nice. And the fact that Harry is the least judgmental person he met in a very long time even makes his time even more enjoyable.

"Tell me about him." He says simply, like its simple request to simply answer. Not like it’s one of the deepest secrets of the introverted photographer. But he wants to know. Wants to know who is the one who captured Harry’s heart so completely. And Harry has quite big heart, he notices.

Harry puts he almost finished taco at the small table aside, takes deep breathe. At first he kept looking at his lap; fiddle with the hem of his shirt, but when he started talking his head turns up to Louis.

"He’s pretty." He smiles; one dimple on display, and Louis noticed that this time the smile reached his eyes. "Like really pretty and he has those amazing blue eyes."

"Pretty? It couldn’t be only it." Louis interrupted, watching Harry’s amused expression.

Harry chuckle at that, “well, if you just let me finish..”

Louis giggles quietly at that, however after a second he widens his eyes a bit and covers his mouth with the back of his hand. It happened to him quite few times unintentionally, and Eleanor always been there. And she didn’t approve. She said it’s really unmanly of him and he needs to pay more attention to what comes out of his mouth. When they were with their social friends it was the worst. He would blush until his hair roots, and the group near them looked at him in their annoying supremacy.

"Shit. Sorry." He mumbles, afraid to look back at Harry. Eleanor also doesn’t approve of his curses. So he tries to tame it when he’s near her. With Harry he doesn’t have too. He looks up when Harry places one finger on his chin gently, forces him to look up.

"That was the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard."

The look on his face, in his eyes, is so sincere that Louis can’t do anything but believing him.

With Harry he doesn’t have to be rich and cold man who interacts with other rich and cold people, who gossip about different rich and cold people. All he hears, all he surrounded is hypocrisy all the time. He got so tired of it after short time. It’s monotonic and boring and without any purpose. Like his life stated to become. Louis isn’t built for that. He destined for something else. He knows it. Somewhere in the years he doesn’t remember something ruined, something changed his future.

Being here, with Harry, is to be himself. And he can’t be more thankful. He swipes the fringe away from his eyes and almost squeak, “Thank you.”

He laughs quietly for a second and shrugged, “Just being honest.”

Louis really likes his laugh. Even its hidden behind nerves and bit sadness Louis can hear how it’s really is. How it’s supposed to be. Carefree and scattered all over the place.     

"Well, keep going, I wanna hear it all about your little lover."

Harry blushes again (the constant blush getting deeper really, it never disappears completely) and ducks his head a little.

"He’s really funny. He’s like the sun, light up the entire place with his present. Joking and smiling this endless smile and laugh that worth thousands suns." He stops for a second, smiling to himself, "I love his laugh." He picks his head back to look at Louis again, the warm smile all directed to him now. "He’s rather small and I always imagine how I manhandle him places without him needing to use his legs. He smiles shyly, "Even though I did once."

Louis notices now the change. He doesn’t understand how he could notice it now. Since they talked this morning when he took photos of Harry he didn’t shudder once. It makes Louis feel proud and satisfied that Harry feels comfortable talking to him now more than before. Even if it’s just with him. Even if it’s just right now.

In other time he would ask Harry about the time he scooped the ‘rather small and pretty man’, but at the moment he can’t separate his eyes from Harry’s.

"He has those beautiful huge blue eyes, which I’m sure tones of people already told him about." He murmurs but at the same time staring decisiveness into Louis. Louis knows it’s weird, it’s utterly and completely weird but it’s almost looks like Harry is talking about _him_. It’s crazy, he aware. He’s also aware that Harry is talking about the guy he made out with, but the way he looks at Louis, in such intensity he nearly can’t breathe, proves otherwise.

Maybe Harry just found him attractive the other time when he said he might kiss him or something. Right now, when he’s talking so passionately, it’s not about Louis. It would be ridiculous to think otherwise.

It’s the first time Louis Tomlinson found himself in a loss of words.

"He seems so lost most of the time, Lou. And that _kills_ me." His eyes transferred into worry and care and to something that maybe called love. He feels jealous of the man that won Harry’s heart more than he ever felt when someone of their malicious friends touched Eleanor.

Louis still can’t find a will or strength to speak so Harry keeps talking, “He’s really confusing and I really don’t know what he think about me.”

Harry looks bitter now and Louis doesn’t want to see him like that so he opens him mouth. “He kisses you, right? That’s enough proof I think.” He smiles cheerfully, however he assumed it comes out more like a grimace.

"A lot happened since then." Harry sighs, puts his head in his hands. When Louis though the conversation is over Harry picks his head sharply, "How did you know that he kisses me first?"

His eyes are big and wide, and even they supposed to be suspicious of Louis to know part of Harry’s life, they full of hope and wonder much to Louis’ surprise.

Louis gapes at him, speechless. How _did_ he know it, really?

"I.." He finds himself mumble for the first time in front of Harry, "I have no idea."

Harry nods slowly, the light and the hope turns off, his body goes limp, look dead in the inside.

And Louis wishes he did have an idea because he absolutely hates seeing Harry like that.

The stays in silent for a minute, possibly the longest time they ever spend without talking (or that’s just what Louis thinks).

He looks at Harry again instead of staring at his lap and sees Harry’s mouth is half open like he wants to say something, but, after a second he shakes his head and tighten his lips.

Louis needs to know, whatever Harry just wanted to say, to ask, he just need to know it.

"What is it, Haz?" He questions, pleading, "Can you tell me?"

Harry passes a hand over his brown curls, blinks a few times, eyes scanning Louis’ face, and utters a small, “Okay.”

Louis comes closer to him on the couch, knees brushing, almost attached, folds Harry’s one large hand in his and whispers, “Talk to me.”

He can hear Harry’s warm breath comes out shakily from his lungs, and Louis’ might does the same.   

Then Harry speaks again, eyes strain on Louis, not moving an inch.

"It’s just.." He inhales again, trails softly, "do you.. want to remember?"

"Remember what?" Louis never felt more confused and anxious in his life.

"Me." Harry answered simply, but yet so tenderly, and the green is hoping and expecting Louis feels like he’s going to explode from all the emotions that threaten to burst out from his body.

Remember him? Did they met before and Louis didn’t even know that? What happened between them?

Of course he wants to know. It feels like he has been awaited for this information all his life.

"Yeah." He breathes, "Yeah, Harry. I wanna know."

"Kiss me." That’s all he gets in reply, but he doesn’t need more than that.

The words hang in the air while Louis tries to digest what that means. Suddenly he struck by Harry’s lips and face and green inches from his own, so welcoming, magnetic even. Like that’s where he supposed to be, wrapped in Harry’s long arms, kiss him softly all their lives. Louis is one hundred percent aware that if he want, that if he’ll lean in, they will kiss without any hesitance. He has no idea what Harry’s kiss has to do with healing his twisted brain, but maybe that’s their Disney fairy tale. The ones Eleanor never wanted him to watch.

He leans in closer, until he can feel warm breath on his lips, stays still, every cell in his body screams at him to connect their lips, hate thinking about _her_ in that situation, but he still does. Maybe because he’s afraid how different it might be with Harry, if he won’t like it and will have to come back to her with bitterness and perforate heart.

The moment he decided not to give a shit about later and their lips finally connected blissfully, softly, he felt vibration in his pocket. He disconnects their lips and groans. He pulls the phone out and glances at it. Eleanor. Again. Of course. Like she knows exactly in which moment to barge in and disturb.

"Shit. Sorry." He blocks her and turns his phone off completely.

He looks up again and meets with huge green eyes and before he succeeds to lean to continue what disturbed, his lips meet with the owner of the green ones.

He lets out a tiny moan, attached their lips tighter, gets the feeling it’ll never be tight enough.  

He tries to find something to into, settles on Harry’s shirt, holds handful of it desperately, as Harry catches his fringe, pushes it back roughly; kiss harder, never harder enough, licks at Louis’ bottom lip shakily. 

Harry stands up, Louis does the same with eyes closed, trusting Harry to lead them whenever he wants, can feel him through their attached lips, almost can read his mind.

Harry pushes him to the near wall, hovering over him, arms all around Louis’ waist while Louis tries not to break down from how much he like, love it, and how oddly _familiar_ it feels.

He brushes his hands against Harry’s arms, where the tattoos he made for someone else located. Now, there made for him.

He doesn’t know how he got to hear it through Harry’s panting breathes and his own moans caused by grinding hips together, but someone calls his name and knocks on the door. There’s something oddly familiar about that too.

He leans back from Harry; earn a little whine from him.

"There’s someone in the door." He whispers faintly, his breathes heavy on his chest.

Harry turns around and when the calls keeps going he turns back at Louis in his arms, holds him by his shoulder now.

"Do you remember?" There’s urgency in his voice and eyes, but Louis is too hazy and too giddy that he can’t answer a thing except, "That’s our butler." He trails, his breathes come easer, "Eleanor sent him."

Harry’s gaze flick to somewhere in their right, but Louis doesn’t have the power to see what, “Come with me?”

It doesn’t take Louis long to decide between happiness and green and soft kisses to emptiness and hypocrisy.

"Yeah, come on."

Harry takes Louis’ smaller hand in his own, and Louis enjoys it more it’s needed to.

They run past the other exit door, when Louis still can hear Bob’s shouts and Eleanor’s voice hide in his words. He doesn’t feel himself sorry for picking the green eyes man over her.

However, when they was about to enter to Harry’s car he whispers a quiet, “Sorry, El.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid only comments can save this fanfic.. so if you want me to continue- even one comment can do the trick :)  
> Hope you liked it ! 
> 
> Also in my tumblr [hazandloubear](http://hazandloubear.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She moves to stand directly in front of him, eyes showering him with coldness. “Don’t make fool out of me, Harry,” she puts one hand on her hip in decisiveness, mouth on the known thin line.
> 
> He opens his mouth to question what the hell she’s talking about, because there isn’t she, there’s he. He doesn’t know what to say so he settles on undecided, “Umm..”
> 
> Apparently she tired from his “slow-as-hell-voice” as she called it many times before, and keeps shooting, “Your unreasonable obsession with your phone, the unexplained hours on your studio,” She expresses mockingly, “how you came home every day with glowing eyes, like the sun shines from her damn arse,” she pauses, and Harry is afraid. No one should be scared from their partner. “So do tell me, Harry, who is she?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the lovely lovely ones who commented on the last chapter, this chapter is out thanks to you :) You are amazing!

Harry has never felt lighter.

It’s understandable, as he has him in his car. The kind of little sunshine in his life that makes everything look so much better, radiating beauty and warmth and _hope_ Harry needs so much.

He can still feel Louis mouth on his. Soft, smooth and so so warm. His all body, all existence is yet to leave the studio, didn’t leave their cocoon of kisses and what Harry thinks is very like what love supposed to be.

He’s driving, but he doesn’t know where to exactly. It doesn’t really matter as long as he have this boy next to him, that he’s not all alone anymore. Not with _her_ anymore.

Harry remembers the first days after their wedding. When they first enter into their house, settled in, and he expected relief and calmness to wash over him.

But they never came.

All he could think was why is she with him right now? Which moment in his life led him to this current state? He couldn’t stop thinking while turning in his ( _their_ bed) why Louis, this needy, lost, beautiful man isn’t with him to share what marriage life meant to be and even more.

They’ll laugh and kiss and make love, and will do all the things he never wanted to do with Jamie.

Instead he stayed in that dark hole for three years.

He’s certainly not planning on keep staying. He had enough.

He glances at Louis and, well, he finds it very hard to only glance. The sun streaming on Louis’ face, playing with his long eyelashes, brightened his tan skin and gives the blue in his eyes light shade of happiness. He’s so pretty.

Harry can’t even believe he’s here next to him. That he agreed to do this whole ‘run away with me’ Harry offered. It’s a miracle he even kissed him back.

It’s not the time to wonder if Louis remembers him, of at least _something_ from his past, not the time to think about anything. Right now, they’re relaxing, running away.

Louis turns to look at him, the wind swirling his chestnut hair in the most beautiful way, hint of small smile on his lips. Freedom.

"What?" Harry asks, dimples forming in full force while he faced the road in front. The fact that they didn’t had an accident by now- also a miracle.

"Nothing," He sees Louis shrug from the corner of his eye, "It’s just exciting I guess. All I’ve ever did was confirmed by Eleanor, so like, it’s the first time something like that happening to me." 

Harry’s heart going to explode.

He so angry about the way Eleanor treated his Louis; however he’s not surprised. He knows what she’s capable of, unfortunately.

On the other hand, he knows that she can’t do that to him anymore. That Louis is free from the grasp of her sharp nails. That’s what makes him to see the glass half full.

He still didn’t get used to the fact that Louis is talking to him so freely, so sincerely. He’s most likely dreaming right now and the angel who is sitting next to him; is practically a real angel.

Louis probably takes his huge dimpled grin as a reply, so he questions, “Where are you taking us, young Harold?”

He opens in mouth to whine; _that’s not my name, Lou, and I’m not that young,_ but that’s what he’d do with Jamie if she would ever think of calling him in those nicknames. Jamie never thought about any nicknames for him, and Louis obviously not her, and he can call Harry baboon is that’s what’ll make him happy, so he simply smiles, “I have no idea actually.”

Louis laughs quietly at that, and Harry’s heart flutters, beaming out of his chest. “If you’ll keep driving like that we’ll arrive to Hawaii.” Louis comments, huffs playfully.

Free, giggling laugh fell out of Harry’s lips, much loader than needed or intended. He’s positive the entire street can hear him, but he finds out he really doesn’t care. “What do you suggest, then?” It’s ridiculous how big his smile is.

Louis turns his face towards the sun, grin almost as wide as Harry’s, closing his eyes; the people in the streets are so lifeless compares to him, “I have an idea. If you don’t mind.”

Like he could ever resist him. “Lead the way, Lou.”

* * *

 

After hour of driving according to Louis’ introductions, they arrive to wide lawn, in the middle of it small playground, little kids and their mums playing there, the sun setting, casting shadows behind them over the muddy grass.

It’s the first time Harry isn’t home in sunset and he doesn’t even care.

He parks the car, and looks at Louis expectedly. For all he know, there no reason Louis will bring him here of all places and he doesn’t think Louis simply wanted to hang out. It has to be explanation.

And he wants to anything about Louis.

All his insides and outsides, the things he dislike about himself so Harry will make him see the beauty in himself. He wants to heal his brain and make him remember all that happened. It hurts Harry to keep seeing him struggle through the dark and the lies and the blur someone left him to breathe.

They’re near very wealthy looking neighborhood. The shiny white walls of the huge villas gleaming at the sun just like the pretty man next to him. Well, that’s a lie. Louis is gleaming much more than them.

Suddenly Harry understands how Louis is connected to this place.

Louis breathes in deeply and rests his head on the car’s headrest. He _is_ connected; however Harry can assume he doesn’t really want to be.

"I used to come here a lot when I was a kid," Louis says, breaks the comfortable silence. Louis is going to share with him another detail from his life, and Harry can’t be more thankful. "Not with my mum of course." He laughs bitterly, "She said she can’t go all the way over here and get her hands in the dirt and sand." He opens his eyes and Harry is struck by the blue he learned to love so much. "If you ask me she just wanted to spend the least time she can away from me. I always reminded her of my dad, she said once, and like, I didn’t even want to remember him, so why wouldn’t she?" He pauses for a few seconds, bits his lip, the delicate skin breaks, tiny drop of blood remains.

Harry reaches one tentative hand towards the very vulnerable man. He places it on Louis cheek; notices how it’s taking over half of his face, letting it linger there, unmoving, unblinking. That’s the man he first met. Lost and scared. He misses him. But he misses Louis happy much more. He loves him at all times, but he _hates_ seeing him sad.

Louis bits his bottom lip harder, closing his blue sapphires again.

"You know what’s the last thing I can remember happened before the accident?" He continues, not letting Harry time to reply, "That she sent away my friend just because he was from pauper’s neighborhood. I didn’t give a shit, but she just threw him out the second she discovered who he is. Such caring mother she was, hah?" to harry it’s kind of one sided conversation, but all he can do is to listen in try to help Louis by listening.         

"That’s why after I got married I lost touch. I still didn’t forgive her." Only his lips are moving, and all Harry can do is to lean in and give Louis some love and hope he feels through their connected lips.

Louis froze for a split second, but Harry didn’t stop. All the overwhelming emotions he can’t carry without Louis knowing anymore washing over him. Louis brings his small hands to scratch at the short hairs at the back of Harry’s neck, breathes softy yet huskily, and it looks like he can’t live without Harry’s kiss just like Harry can’t. Harry slides his hands to Louis’ hip, big hands enveloping his slim waist, clutching it tighter, does the same thing to their connected lips.

Louis makes tiny desperate noise at the back of his throat into Harry’s mouth, causing something inside harry to flick and he scoops Louis in his arms, placing him on his lap. “It’s alright?” Harry asks huskily, the air choked a little, mixed of both of them. Louis nods, leans in to keep to intoxicating sensation, all the sadness and hurt that were in his eyes long forgotten, and that’s exactly what Harry wanted and expected to happen.

They’re kissing for a few minutes engulfed by each other, before Harry pushes back few inches, whispering, “Where have you been all my life, Lou?” He says it in full seriousness, but despite this, maybe because of it, it makes tiny grin to crack on Louis kissed lips, “I can ask you the same question, Rihanna.”

Harry laugh, holding Louis even tighter in his arms, enveloping him completely, warm, soft breaths on his neck. He open his mouth to say the three words he feels in his heart from more than three years, but stops himself. It’s wrong to do it right now. Even if his heart going to burst out of his chest every split second he’s near this blue eyed man. Louis eyes are so close, so blue, so full of hope and trust and things he can’t even begin to understand. So instead he whispers, “You’re so pretty, Lou.”

Reddening flashes on Louis’ cheeks, and Harry is so smug he can make that happen. “Thank you.” Louis replies, and Harry loves him so much it’s crazy, he want to be with him forever, give him the stars and moon and to discover new stars for him, just like Louis helped to discover himself.

The only way to do it right, though, is to make a decision he couldn’t make until now. Now, he’s ready. Now, ha has purpose.

So he breathes deeply, “I’m going to leave her.”

Louis eyes wider, inhales sharply, “For me?”

Harry brushes few auburn hairs away from the fascination blue, gently, always gently, praying he will able to do that for the rest of his life, “Only for you.”

Louis froze before his lips transferred into priceless smile, and he leans up to catches Harry lips in a kiss, like a promise of what’s about to come.

_He has never looked this happy_ , Harry thinks, _I have never been this happy_. Louis stops for breath, lifts one small hand to caress Harry cheek, and the taller man finds it very hard to think anymore, because of what Louis murmurs into his ear, “You’re a whole new level of charm,”

* * *

 

Harry takes deep breaths, passes hand through his curls nervously. The oak door in front of him looks awfully intimidating, just like the woman he’ll meet when he’ll pass through it.

He drove here from his and Louis’ rented hotel room, where they’ll stay until they’ll know how to define what they are (Harry’s pretty sure (100 percent sure) he knows what he want them to be). They both insisted to pay for the stay, and decided after playful fight to just split it between them. Louis pouted adorably and all Harry could do is to kiss him, laugh and giggles echoed in the room.

Harry licks his lips at the thought of it, of the thought of him, and knocked. He misses Louis already so it better to finish this as soon as possible.

"Just a second!" He hears the dull call from inside, and well, he certainly hadn’t missed this voice. It reminds him long fights and blaming ice-cold eyes.

It’s almost night, the sun set long ago, that’s why he knows she’ll be angry and suspicious. The worst combination for him. Usually he returns home much earlier, sitting on the too familiar couch, trying to understand how his life turned out this way.

Footsteps getting closer and he froze because he realize suddenly that he has no idea how to make this conversation. What to say to her. But soon enough, the door opens and she’s in front of him.

She looks the same she was this morning, the same constant stony, cold expression, narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, disapproving, as always- disapproving of _him_. In one way, Harry can tell she’s not exactly the same she was this morning. There’s almost unnoticeable, but there’s a trace of wetness in the corner of her left eye. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve think she cried.

It can’t be.

The second he eyes land on him, her eyes goes even colder, jaw locked and Harry feels all the high and happiness he gained during his shared time with Louis crash down.

In one look, she can destroy what Louis did for days. Harry hates the fact that she has such influence on him, but he can’t help it. It has been going on for too long, too used to let her humiliate him, to make him feel useless, powerless. He hates her for it.

The tension between them is thick as the night engulfing Harry. Yes, he saw her this morning, however it’s like everything changed between them, like there’s no more masks or pretending.

"Hey, Jamie." Harry says awkwardly, fiddles with the hem of this shirt. It’s really awkward since she didn’t even tell him to come into his own house.

She tightens her lips together, and Harry is hallucinating, he knows he is, because it seems like she fights the wetness in her eyes to stay in its place, hidden.

He didn’t see her crying for a long time.

After few seconds of weird silence, she straightened her back, blinks quickly, face becomes blank again.

"Well, come on in. It’s still you house, right?" She says dryly, leaving the door open a crack, while walking inside.

* * *

 

It feels like a zero point one second after he sat on the couch when she shoots the question.

"Who is she?"

He blinks twice, puzzled, looking up, noticing that even though she at the corner of the living room he’s paralyzed under her gaze. “What?”

She moves to stand directly in front of him, eyes showering him with coldness. “Don’t make fool out of me, Harry,” she puts one hand on her hip in decisiveness, mouth on the known thin line.

He opens his mouth to question what the hell she’s talking about, because there isn’t _she_ , there’s _he_. He doesn’t know what to say so he settles on undecided, “Umm..”

Apparently she tired from his “slow-as-hell-voice” as she called it many times before, and keeps shooting, “Your unreasonable obsession with your phone, the unexplained hours on your studio,” She expresses mockingly, “how you came home every day with glowing eyes, like the sun shines from her damn arse,” she pauses, and Harry is afraid. No one should be scared from their partner. “So do tell me, Harry, _who is she_?”

There’s so much venom in her voice Harry curls in into himself even more. There was a time when they weren’t like this? When she smiled and it wasn’t because of money or something he gave her? Through the sharp memories of the last years of screams and yells and depressing couch, he isn’t able to remember how it bent before the wedding, before he first met Louis. They were always this apathetic towards each other’s feelings?

They both know all her complaints are true. (Except from the one small detail, but it doesn’t change a thing anyway).

It surprised him she that she even cared enough to notice to details at all. He thought that she gave up on him a long time ago.

It also doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the fact that they can’t live like that any longer, the fact that his heart belongs to someone else.

His eyes glued to the living room’s carpet, bits his bottom lip forcefully. He can’t stand up to her. Never could. Louis helped him to appreciate himself better, he really did, but this.. _thing_ with Jamie is going on forever, that he barely can see himself act differently with her now.

Nothing’s changed. It’s a copy-past of their usual arguments. She yells at him while he can’t pick his head up to look at her eyes, let alone answer back.

"It’s not she," he whispers, closing his eyes. It has to be done. He’s so so tired.

"What do you mean it’s not she?" her eyes are wide open, he doesn’t need to see to know that, "If you’re mocking me Harry I swear to god-"

"It’s not a woman, Okay?" He head snaps up in anger, all the sadness, loneliness, and the fury he kept deep inside him all these time burst out into life.

It’s not like she can threaten him. She doesn’t have something he cherish, something he can’t live without. What can she possibly say? That she leaves and takes the kids with her? He has nothing to lose.

He shouldn’t be scared anymore. He won’t be scared anymore.

"What?" she whispers, completely dumbfound. He can understand her shock. It’s wasn’t really all that expected that he’ll love guys while being married to her. He stands up, now taller than her, feels stronger, like thanks to the realization that he has nothing to lose all the rest become easier.

"His name is Louis," he starts, mind blurry, can’t believe he’s doing it for real right now when he pictured it so many times in his head. Can’t believe he’s leaving her when he got so used to being her favorite punching bag.

She doesn’t reply yet, so he continues, “he believes in me, Jamie. He showed me hope and love in all the ways you’ve never did.” He says, tiny bit apologetically, the old habit stays despite all, trying to ignore her stormy expression. “I’m sorry, but things haven’t been good between us since the wedding. I have to do this.”

She looks like she’s going to explode. “He believes in you, hah? Did you even tried to think of asking you why I’m like this? Why we became like this, Harry?” her eyes spark fire, teeth screeching.

Harry stumbles back, puzzled. He asked himself thousands times those questions, _did_ thought about asking her, but he was so afraid of what she’ll say, of how she’ll react _._ It would me more screams, so he didn’t bother. _Are you asking_ me _why we became like this? You’re always blaming me of all the shit you do! I’m so tired of all of this!_  

That’s why her next words leave him absolutely paralyzed.

"It started just after the wedding," she says, voice contained, "you were so different somehow. You didn’t look at me the same way. Daydreaming at times. You seemed.. off." She shakes her head, holds it down. "No matter what I did, you didn’t pay attention to me. So I had to fight with you over the smallest things, send you out of our bedroom in hope you’ll want to sneak back, made you buying me stuff, taking me places so I’ll imagine that you love me." Harry can tell she smiles the tiniest grin. She has never looks so devastated, though. "But you never came back to sleep with me, never dimpled-smiled." Is she blushing? No it can’t be. "So I had- I _have_ to keep trying.”

Harry is froze in his place, digests all the information that fell on him so suddenly. He gulps, has no idea if she’s making that up so he’ll stay with her, or that’s really what happened.

He doesn’t want to fight and accusing her for nothing, so he believes. “I,” he closes his eyes tightly, headache, heartache, “I didn’t think you even cared about me.”

She lifts her head up and the color of her eyes is the same frozen see, but this time there’s no judgment in them, only silent prayer. She might, only may be love him; but he finds it very difficult to understand how. After all that happened, he can’t love her back. And adding Louis above of all- there’s no chance.

He said once, to a very specific someone that marriage is about love. And he acted exactly the opposite all those years. How could he be so stupid?  

"I loved you, Harry. I still do, so why wouldn’t I?" She asks, so sure about it, like it’s obvious. He certainly didn’t know it until now.    

"You’ve never showed it, how- why- just why?"

Her facial expression softened, she smiles sadly, real one, and that’s a rare sight. “You’ve always been very accurate in your questions.”

Harry smiles back, and was about to chuckle, but them his eyes flicker towards the small lather couch, the one he spent so many night sleeping on. It doesn’t matter why she acted the way she did. She still sent him to sleep there almost every single night. His tears still fell on that couch without someone wiping them off.

He’s not going to crash on that couch anymore. Not even one more night. All he’ll ever see when he’ll wake up in the mornings from now on will be tan skin glinting at the sunrise and loving blue eyes.

He locked his jaw, this time his own lips tightening. “I’m sorry Jamie. But I can’t- I just _can’t_ do this anymore. It’s over. We’ll both be finally happy.” The words fall out coldly from his lips, the rules reversed. She’s the scared and unreacted one, while he’s determined and stern.

"No," she whispers, pleading, "No, you can’t do that- Harry please," her eyes fill up with tears. The last time she saw her crying was at their wedding day. "Please- don’t do this,"

He feels sorry for her, he really does.

"I’m sorry," he sighs, "S’too late now." He pauses, adding after a thought, "Maybe it was always too late."

"It’s not, Harry, please, we can fix this," she begs, walking over, placed her hands on his arms. He didn’t move her yet, didn’t want to break her completely. Even if her touch feels so much different than Louis’. Stiff and unfamiliar. "I promise we can and it’ll be better, just leave this man and we’ll can-"

Harry’s blood boiling through his veins, “leave him?” he steps back from her grasp, throwing her hands away, furious, “you’re asking me to leave him when he’s the reason I’m this happy, when he’s the only light in the darkness I was in until he came?” He breathes shakily, trying to contain himself and not punch her in the face, “how fucking dare you?” he shouts, anger comes out in waves.

At his words Jamie’s expression turned from hurt into disgusted. It’s only disguise, the last weapon she has on him. So he won’t walk out while she’s crying, won’t think of her as a weak, pathetic woman.     

"Alright, go with him. But when this home-wrecker will ditch you for his next victim, this door won’t be open for you, and this won’t be your home." Her words hang in the air like a vow.

He doesn’t need that vow. He won’t be back.

"It has never been my home anyway." He finishes, leaving passed the said door, didn’t get to see her clutching a framed picture of them kissing few days before their wedding, breaking apart on the floor.

* * *

 

"Louis? babe?" Harry calls, entering to their hotel room, opening the door quickly, can’t wait to tell Louis that he finally left her, that they can be together for eternity, to breathe in the sweet scent, cuddle with him while he’s in his arms, to make love to him.

But, the soft voice he learned to love so much doesn’t answer.

His eyes widen in fear, passing the short corridor, pushing through the walls, hoping Louis is sleeping and that the reason of the burdensome silence.

It’s not.

The bed isn’t full with the man Harry loves; Harry’s the only one who breathes in the room. He throws the thin blanket on the ground, the last chance of finding Louis- but finding nothing beneath it.

"Lou?" he whispers brokenly, "No, Lou, it isn’t happening," he paces around the room, hands clutching his curls, _where is Louis why he isn’t here with me where did he go_ , the questions swirl in his head, making him dizzy, sick.

Harry thought it was going so amazingly great between them, and now Louis just left? Did he lie all that time they were together? Did he mock him this entire time? It wasn’t real?

His head hangs head aching almost can’t bear it. His eyes flick to pink note on the neat floor, right next to the blanket. He squints and notices there’s the hotel symbol on the left side of it, and in the middle there are numbers written.

His brain is blurry and foggy, but he knows it meant for him to pick up somehow.

He holds it carefully between his fingers, figures out that the numbers are in fact- phone number. He reads the numbers in his head, and it’s Louis number. He memorized it enough times to know it by heart, and those black numbers on the paper create the exact combination.

His hands shake slightly, holding the message from Louis for dear life, dialing with the hotel’s phone, checking carefully, afraid to be mistaken by one and to lengthen the wait of hearing Louis voice.

His heart bits faster than ever, hands sweating, holding vigorously the phone’s receiver.

"Hello?" The melodic voice answers at the other line, way too far.

Harry breathes in partly relief, at least Louis is okay. “Lou?”

"Harry? Oh my god, Haz, I’m so sorry, you didn’t had you cell with you so I couldn’t reach you, couldn’t tell you that-"

"Lou, Lou, slow down," The latter relief washes away, "Where are you? Are you alright?"

He hears Louis’ breaths on the phone, counting them, hanging on each one, at seconds Louis doesn’t reply.

"Home," one word that makes Harry to fall on the unmade bed, lump stock in his throat. "I just- It’s – It’s not you, it’s just-"

Harry inhales shakily, doesn’t want to do this conversation over the phone. No when it sounds like he’s never going to see Louis again. He needs to kiss him, to hug him, to look at those blue eyes he loves so much. If it depends on him, he’ll do whatever it takes to turn this around, to make Louis be with him, but he knows Louis wouldn’t go to Eleanor again without really serious reason. So he needs to be prepared for years of possible loneliness, Louis-less.

"Give me your address."

Another couple of seconds of breathing passed through them.

"Alright," he hears Louis sighs, "But you need to know why I’m here before you’ll come," Louis’ voice shudders, Harry wants to stop the shuddering, "I don’t know if- I don’t think you’ll want to come when you’ll hear this," Louis admits, uncertain.

"I will come no matter what you’ll say to me. _Where are you_?” Harry asks desperately, curls wrapped in his hand.

Louis gives in, and tells him the address.

One minute later, he’s watching the streets pass blurrily through the car’s window.

* * *

 

The hope leaves Harry slowly.

It can’t stay with him, not when Louis’ voice told him its over in so many ways.

He’s scared of so many things.

He erased Jamie from that list, but he gathered other stuff. Not less scary.

He’s afraid to face Louis and hearing what he has to say. Scared of not being able to see him again.

Whatever it is, Harry knows, it must be Eleanor’s doing. Until he finally succeeded to be with Louis, she destroyed it for him. For them.

He spent so many nights, days, hours, seconds thinking about Louis, that just the thought of losing him makes his heart bleed and ach and break to the tiniest pieces.

Louis is waiting for him.

He pulls the ignition off, opening the car’s door, closing his eyes, enjoying the chill wind; picturing Louis laughs, smiles, pressed up against him, kissing him softly, short breathes escaping his lips.

They are destined to be together, he’s sure of it. They just met too late.

He gets out of the car, looking around. To pass through the barrier of the wealthy neighborhood was easy enough. Louis told the guard he should come and the latter let him after asking his name immediately.

Louis’ (and Eleanor’s, he reminds himself) house is huge. If he wasn’t so stressed of the conversation that’s about to come he would adore the sparkly white walls, the well-kept lawn, the fresh smell that comes out of everywhere.

Instead, he walks tentatively, stands in front of the welcoming gate, pressing the call button.

Waiting a few seconds, no one answered, but then he notices someone is opening the front door.

Louis looks distracted. His hair pushed back messily, not in the usual fringe Harry loves so much, and his eyes looking straight through, there are no happy crinkles at the corners at all.  

Harry guesses he looks the same as him.

"Lou," he chokes when Louis was at hearing range.

"Hey, Hazza." He replies, smiling tightly.

What could change so drastically at the hour they spent apart?

Louis opens the gate, Harry engulfing him in his arms.

"I’ve missed you," he says, breathing in scent, the person, he can’t live without anymore.

He feels Louis breathes shakily on his shoulder, “Me too, so much.” He looks up, eyes full of life again. “But there’s something I must tell you, that changes all.” He whispers, “I’m so sorry..”

"Sorry for what, Lou? You didn’t do anything," Harry replies, tightening his hold.

"She’s pregnant."

Harry didn’t hear correctly.

"What did you say? I think I heard-"

"Eleanor is pregnant," Louis chokes, tears wells up in the blue, "we can’t be together, I’m so sorry,"

"No, no Lou, you cannot be serious, please tell me you’re joking," Harry begs, knees almost giving out.

"I’m not, I’m sorry," he repeats, and Harry is dying inside.

"I left my wife for you," Harry says numbly the secrets he kept, "I _love_ you,”

The tears leaving freely Louis’ eyes now, “I love you too, Hazza, please remember that it I’ll always love you, no matter what’ll happen, you are always in my heart.”

"Then you don’t have to stay, go with me like we first planned, I need you with me, Lou," Harry crumples, "I won’t know how to live,"

"I can’t, _Haz_ , I can’t leave this baby like my father left me, I know what it’s like I can’t do this to them. I’m so so sorry.” Louis answers softly, stroking the short hairs at the back of Harry’s neck lovingly, trying to calm his ragged breaths.

"I can’t live without you," Harry repeats, words feel useless to use. Louis won’t be his eventually.

Instead of answering, Louis pressed himself up, kissing him with all he got. Tears mixes with tears, last breaths, last kiss.

And all Harry could do is to cherish the last moments of his life.

Louis leans back up, still on his tiptoes, nose to nose, whispers, “Just like our first kiss.”

Harry opens his eyes widely, “you remember?”

Louis laughs softly, releasing himself from Harry’s arms, from Harry’s life.

"Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POOR HARRY, POOR LOUIS OMG   
> TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK
> 
> (I think the next chapter will be the last before the epiloge but who knows?)


	10. Chapter 10

At night, when she's in deep sleep, Louis strokes the small bump lovingly, carefully, and whispers "hello, baby Styles".

* * *

 

The days pass quickly as slowly, blurry and terribly clear, numb and endlessly aching.

Harry rolls over on the hotel bed, pink note in one hand, clutching it tightly even in his sleep, few inches next to it lays empty bottle, it rolls slightly with each one of his breaths.

He wakes up groggily, pushing the blankets aside with one hand, sniffles the note before pocketing it carefully in his dirty pants, then stumbling to the small attached bathroom.

The bath, like the whole hotel room, is flooded with pungent smell of alcohol, his clothes scattered on the floor, some of them stained with the strong liquid. It doesn't bother Harry, not at all; he doesn't care about anything these days. _Let it be, what it'll change anyway?_

He bends on one knee, hovering over the toilet bowl waiting for the familiar sting that comes with the daily vomit.

It comes, soon enough, and Harry enjoys every second. There's nothing left besides from the pain and dizziness, then why not?

He wishes someone will give him the gift Louis has been given. To forget everything. Start over.

His head resting on the floor now. He can't remember how it got to this position. It doesn't matter. He only has this compressed air to smell and empty air to hug.

He can sense unexplained wetness on the floor against his cheek. Perhaps his own tears, his own acid for his latest vomit.

He hears distant beeping sound that signaling for incoming massage. It's probably Liam, it has to be. Liam is the only one he talks to these days, and it's always about work.

He asked Harry few times if _everything's alright, mate ? You don’t look so well, how the stuff going on at home ?_

Harry only answered with _m'fine_ , and _don't worry 'bout it_.

It's the farthest from the actual truth, but Liam really shouldn't worry about him. No one should, because he is the one who got himself to that problem, he's the one who fell in love with the wrong person and left him wife at the worst moment.

He closes his eyes, only to wake up somehow later, even the weak sunlight that managed to pass into the room blinding him.

He used to love to be blinded by the sun. It's just, back then the sun included blue eyes, long lashes and contagious laugh.

He squints, stands up, unbalanced, waddle out of the small bathroom to the small attached bedroom. He rubs his eyes, taking the phone from where he tossed it earlier at night (he has no idea how he even found it, really), unlocking it.

He glances at the hour, groans when he sees it's ten in the morning, way too late for work, but also early considering last night when he drunk more than he thought possible.

He's about to lock the phone when he notices the small green icon that alerting on a message. He's sure it's Liam, it has to be, and he won't go to the studio today anyway, so why bother?

A split second decision makes him to look at the message anyway. He froze straight away.

_Can u meet up 2day?_

It's Louis. _Louis._

He thought they'll never see each other again, never talk again; however against all odds, Louis is asking him to meet up.

He wants to ask if something happened to the baby that broke them apart, if now, somehow, they can be together, how it can be that suddenly they can see each other after such a long time? Instead of asking any of that he types back hectically, _yes, time and place_ , already feeling rush of adrenalin comes over him along with longing and yearning to finally see Louis again, to envelope him in his arms and to never _ever_ let go.

He thought his heart died when he said goodbye to him last, three months his was fully convinced he's some kind of a zombie, but right now as his heart beating so fast in his chest, that he knows he was wrong.

If his fingers weren't shaking so badly from waiting for the response he would has type I missed you so much Lou, I love you, I want to see your beautiful eyes again, forever. To hold you and kiss you and love-

_Your studio, 11_

He shudders, _its only hour away_ , head spinning with excitement and remaining alcohol. He crushes on the hotel bed, the bottle so close and so tempting right now, but he won't, _can't,_ meet Louis enveloping with that awful smell that comes out of his mouth and dirty clothes. He'll shave and shower.

For Louis he'll be a human again.

_I'm on my way, boo bear._

* * *

 

Harry pulls his car in the studio parking lot.

He opens the door to the slight breezing wind, taking the bouquet of red roses he bought and gets out of the car.

He breathes in the fresh air, feeling more whole and alive than he has been in months. He is in clean cloths, his face is shaven and there's even a lingering scent of aftershave from him. Plus, there isn't one single bit of alcohol in his blood.

Or he that how he feels, at least.

In inhales deeply, heart beats fast, almost out of his chest. He's going to meet Louis in a few minutes. His Louis, with his soft hair, beautiful blue fond eyes, light stubble, tiny lovely belly and a personality of magnetic sun. He haven't saw him in three months (one hundred and two days to be precise). Each seconds of awakening was like a ticking bomb.

_Can I stand live like that any longer?_

The alcohol helped a bit, of course. But every day have its morning of sobering and throbbing pain.

He thought about suicide couple of times; however every single time he recalls Louis' voice whispering to him in plea _"please remember you are always in my heart."_ And well. That kind of sealed the whole deal.

He has never thought he would fall in love with a married man, didn't think he wouldn't love his wife and will end up leaving her; he's not that kind of person. But it all changed the day he and Louis met. His thoughts, his moods, his life, all began to turn by the tiniest lift of a finger of the smaller man.

He felt so awfully empty, aimless, without Louis' close proximity. But it's all going to end. Soon enough Louis will be hugged by him, will be introduced to Liam while Harry will wrap a protective arm around his waist, and Liam will beam at them, so glad that finally, after all those years, Harry found someone that can make him happy.

It's all so tangible and clear in his eyes he can almost touch it. Sense and smell it.

Shiny black car stops in front of him, cutting him out from his thoughts. He knows exactly who is in it. He _did_ wait for this person more time they he can sum up in days.

Here he comes, Harry smiles widely, tentatively, embracing the bouquet closer to his chest, fully knowing he looks like a love sick before first date.

They're going to remember those days when they'll be older and surrounded by kids and laugh at how complicated it was.

Well, it's not going to be anymore.

Harry breathes deeply, takes a few steps forward.

The driver's door is opened, and an old man comes out of there.

Probably one of their many butlers, Harry thinks. He does wonder why Louis doesn't just comes out of this stupid car and just run to him and kiss him so softly and passionately and they both won't breathe anymore with the lack of-

"Oh didn't expect you to buy me roses, Harry. There was absolute no need."

Harry froze. Letting the bouquet to fall silently on the floor.

It's not Louis.

In front of him stands very much pregnant Eleanor.

How could he be this idiot?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it was so so short but i had to update already oops  
> I already wrote the next chapter long time ago in my notebook but im too lazy and busy to type all that LONG thing so yeah.. soon :)  
> One chapter and then epilogue :)))   
> comments ?? thoughts ??


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is guys after hard work and numb fingers - the last chapter :)  
> hope you'll like it as much as I do.

He's starting to get into the conclusion he's a bloody idiot.

He didn't think how it could've be that so suddenly Louis can meet him, like he doesn't has pregnant wife and baby he can't leave anymore. Didn't think why Louis didn't call him instead of texting, why he sounded so distant even over black letters on touch screen.

While staring blankly at Eleanor, sees how she's all shiny, rich and _happy_ as always, he scans all the events in the past hour; the 'unlike Louis' messages, the sudden meeting. It all comes crashing down on him at once.

He's was (still) so blinded by the love to her husband that he couldn't notice she tricked him in the most simplest of ways.

"So, Harold," she starts. Harry hates her so damn much. If she wasn't pregnant with Louis' baby he would have strangled her with his bare hands, how dare she to trick him like that? To make him think that Louis is waiting for him and to get smug pregnant woman full of happiness and baby. The baby he'd want with Louis. "I guess those roses were for my husband, then." She says, walking towards him, and he begs without saying a word; _go away, I don't want to remember I don't to be near you and your baby. I want to forget._ But he isn't able to open his mouth, isn't able to breathe.

When she sees he only stares at her blankly she adds, "didn't your mommy told you how to say hey?" She mocks, placing her left hand on the baby bump, patting it, stroking it. Harry knows her only intention of doing that is to make him jealous. "Oh right, I forgot. She only taught you how to steal married people," she laughs humorlessly, glint of anger in her eyes.

He recalls the same glint from Jamie's eyes. Every time she threatened him, every time she screamed at him, she knew that Harry wouldn't scream back, wouldn't threat back. She knew that he wasn't capable of doing that. And it's just the same with Eleanor.

But the thing is that Eleanor doesn't know he changed. That he's not afraid anymore.

"Louis was never yours." He whispers, venom dripping from his voice. It doesn't matter that his insides burning with anger, yearning and longing to the man he loves.

He won't see him eventually. And nothing's going to change that.

"So you're still hallucinating that he's going to be back for you," she laughs, this time far from kidding. "He'll never be _yours_ , as long as I'm here" she replies, hands gesturing to the swell of her stomach to indicate the reason of that.

Harry grits his teeth. He must be brave for Louis; he must remember that Louis said he loves him, not Eleanor. Never Eleanor. He's not going to break in front of her.

She steps even closer and Harry flicks his eyes to her baby bump. Louis' son or daughter. The baby who maybe has Louis' blue eyes, the capability to blush prettily in the blink of an eye and a laugh that can light up thousand suns. He blinks, trying to remind himself that it's Eleanor's child too, that he shouldn't feel such strong need to protect the infant.

"You're exactly like him," Harry hears the pregnant woman utter. His head snaps up, eyebrows furrow in confusion. Then the question that he needed to ask himself since the moment he saw Eleanor approaching him comes into his mind. Why did she even pretend to be Louis? What does she possibly wants from him?

"What do you mean?" He doesn't expect her to answer him, he's aware to the fact that she's not going to share something with him. But it doesn't hurt to try, right?

He's almost stumbling back when she replies. "How you look at this baby," she says, voice restrained. "Louis' eyes glued all day to that stupid bump that he can't even look at my face anymore." She states, fake cheerfulness coating her voice. Harry stays in silence, not daring to let out a single syllable.

Inhale, exhale. He needs to hear the rest of it. He can you tell it's important.

"When he thinks I'm asleep he says;" she copies Louis' high voice with grimacing mouth, "' _I love you baby Styles, just like I love your daddy_ ', like I'm your fucking surrogate," she replies furiously, pale hands clutching into fists.

Harry can't believe his own ears. Louis hadn't forgotten him. And not only that, he refers his own daughter as Harry's. He was sure Louis wouldn't risk showing his love for Harry to Eleanor, though. He was sure Louis will show her endless love for the baby's sake. He stays still, dumbfounded, keeps staring at the baby bump in front of him.

Louis' child, Louis' baby.

"So, I wanted to ask you," she continues, anger and covered however undeniable sadness in her facial features. "What the fuck did you do to him?"

For the first time in three months, Harry finds himself smiling. Well, smirking, more like. Because he knows that even he doesn't have Louis - he wins nevertheless. And the best part is that Eleanor is aware of that too.

"I loved him." He answers simply, figured that if they're going to talk sincerely it's preferred. "And it's something you've never knew how to do." Something flickers in Eleanor's eyes. Beneath the fury and anger – there're sadness and surprise hidden. She didn't expect for him to reply so confidently, or perhaps at all.

"Oh I loved him." she says, sounds quite bitter. Harry is almost sure the superior woman is about to explode. "Why do you think we even got married?" She asks rhetorically. "His family lost all of its money after the economic crisis. In other circumstance I wouldn't even look at him." She admits. Harry has to blink few times to make sure he's not dreaming. Is Eleanor Calder practically confessing to him right now?

Yes, apparently.

"But I do love him. That's why I can't give up on him, okay?" She asks roughly, eyes shooting daggers, voice rising dramatically at her last question. "That's why I couldn't let you take him away from me. That's why I was so furious at you that day at the hospital. I saw how gone you were for him. I saw how he kissed you when he said goodbye. I couldn't let you take him away, because I do love him and don't you dare to say I don't." Her voice broke, but just like Jamie, she won't let him if see she crying.

Harry decides that he might took it a bit too far. She does seem to love Louis (who wouldn't love him?), but he meant something else entirely. "I didn't mean to say you don't love him. What I meant was that, like, you don't know how to love him." He settles at that, waiting for her to comment.

However, he certainly didn't expect that.

"I really don't know." She whispers, and then lifts her head sharply. "That's why I wanted to meet you." She pauses, then says, "I need you to tell me how to make him to fall in love with me." she requests pleadingly.

Harry stares at her.

Eleanor, the rich, powerful, supreme woman, Louis' pregnant wife, is asking him to tell her how to make her husband to love her?

It doesn't make any sense. Eleanor is one of those women who never show weakness. Especially not to possible competitor on her husband's heart.

But he knows he's able to help her.

He wouldn't, though.   

"Why would I do that?" He almost laughs at the ridiculousness of her request. "Why I would help you with that when he's clearly unhappy with you, that when I saw him at the day of your wedding he looked like he want to die. That even when he doesn't have his old memories from you he couldn't truly love you. So tell me why the hell I would do that?" He asks seriously, "I'm not going to trick the love of my life to love someone else. Sorry."

Eleanor smirks at that and Harry is taken aback. She can't possibly convince him to do that. She can't.

"You would do that because you wouldn't want to ruin the life of this poor baby, wouldn't you?" She laughs manically. "She does need parents who love each other, and you won't prevent that from her, right Harry?"

So it's a girl, then.

He picks a look at the floor, where he dropped the red roses. They were supposed to be in a vase on a table after Harry would return from work. Louis should've smelled them, cute nose sniffling between them with rosy cheeks, while tiny baby girl stumbling over to them before hiding behind Louis' legs, big blue eyes peeking through. Then Harry will pick their baby up, she'll giggle prettily, her laugh echoing all over their home while he spins her around, Louis laughing, eyes crinkling at the corners, watching them with eyes full of fond and love and all what Harry has ever wanted.

Harry is already in love with the life they could have had, already in love with Louis' baby.

_Please remember that it I'll always love you, no matter what'll happen._

"No." He replies eventually looking up at Eleanor's hoping facial features, recalls Louis' words from three months ago. "It won't work."

He does want Louis' baby to have happy life. With two parents that share kisses and happy memories with her. The thing is that _he_ wants to be the other parent. He wants the life Eleanor will probably have in four months.

However, he didn't consider his wishes when he declined. He's not selfish. It’s just the fact that he knows that Louis won't fall for Eleanor, no matter how much Harry will guide her. And most likely he'll even be frightened by her attempts to act like him. _Not_ a good idea.

Eleanor's eyebrows furrow in anger, and she looks like she want to say something, but then she regrets it. "I- you-" she tries but Harry can tell she's too furious and confused to say something that would convince him to accede to her.

Harry is starting to grow irritating with her. He had such high hopes and she wanted to meet him here in hopes he'll be some kind of teacher.

Lesson number one: how to make the love of his life fall in love with someone else.

No, thank you.

There's an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He can pinpoint its disappointment from himself. How can he let that poor baby be born into life where her parents aren't in love?

She deserves it; Louis' baby deserves happy life and so much more than that.

He's taking a back from his thoughts when he notices the way Eleanor clutches her shirt which stretched across the swell. She holds it so tightly Harry thinks the shirt is going to be torn. It's then when he looks at her face that he is actually begins to be afraid. Her expression holds madness in it, and misery above all. And he's afraid because Eleanor can be a lot of things, but she wasn’t crazy. Not until now.

He doesn't want to leave Louis' child with her. She's not safe.

"She's not even worth it," Eleanor laughs humorlessly, hysterical edge in her words. Harry is pretty sure she's going to voice his opposite thoughts. "If he wouldn't love me the way he loves you, what that stupid fucking baby is even worth, right?"

He's going to be sick. He vision is full with Louis' blue eyes which transfer into baby blue eyes and giggles and happiness everywhere, so Harry finds what she's saying awfully unrealistic and awfully ridiculous.

"How can you say that?" He bursts, "That's your own baby!" He stares at her, wide eyed, can't possibly understand how can she say that, can't understand how lucky she is. She has beautiful husband and a baby with him who will be no less beautiful. Yes, her husband might love someone else, but at least she has him thanks to that baby, and he has nothing.

Eleanor lets out another burst of laughter, her chest rising and falling fast. "If you-" she stops, breathing a bit more, trying to compose herself. "If you would love someone and will marry him, but he won't give a shit about you, so you had to plan a car accident for him to forget all the memories he has from you so you both can start over, but like, he falls in love with someone else afterwards anyway, so he _still_ doesn't give a shit about you-"

" _What?"_ he trails, hating for the first time how slow he's used to speak, "Eleanor what do you mean a car-"

"I wasn't finished!" she shrieks, cheeks red from the effort to speak without breathing, "if he still wouldn't care about you the way you want, and the only thing you can possibly do is to get pregnant so he won't leave you, but when he's with you he's still thinking about someone else you'd end up hating his baby, that's why!" She finishes, eyes full with tears, face red with rage and sadness and undeniable _jealousy_.

"Wha-" he breathes, trying to find even one logical thing to hold into. Nothing's makes sense. "No, no, I can't- I can't believe you did it." He whispers, almost to himself, looking right through her hollowly. If she said all of that so Harry will take pity on her, then she did pretty shit job. He never has been so angry in his entire life. "But _why_?" he asks, even though she explained it to him quite perfectly few seconds ago.

He can't even begin to digest it. Like is brain is plugged by tons on cotton and all he is able to is to stare blankly at her, frozen in place. " _why_?" he repeats, "If you really loved him you needed to just let him go! He would be with me and I could make him happy!" he exclaimed. Fully knowing that it doesn't matter what she'll say now, it will change nothing.

What if Louis was killed in the car accident? What if he would get some irreversible damage? What Eleanor would do then? Kill him, so her wealthy friends won't see her poor and bruised husband?

His head is spinning, and he hates her so much it makes his blood boil.

"Oh great, that stupid sentence again!" She huffs, "you live in fucking Disney movie you two!" Harry can tell she's shaking herself, with how tight she keeps grasping her shirt.

He's scared she's going to hurt the baby, or even Louis. He's so so scared.

Even if Louis doesn't see it that way, they're his family.

"It's better than to live in a bloody horror movie!" he replies back, wondering when their conversation turned into a fight over honor. Probably when he realized he could've lose Louis because of her. But not only his heart, but his whole being.

"What a pity he didn't die in that horror movie." she spats, Harry can feel she's defeated, her voice holds watery edge in it. "Then he wouldn't be able to love someone else, not even _you_."

He straightens his body, towering over the pregnant woman. "You're not going back to him." He says decisively, "I won't let you." He threats, fisting his hands tightly, pressing them to his thighs. He has no idea how to stop her without hurting her, but if it depends on him he'll lock her up and feed her through a crack in the door until she'll give birth.

"You won't need to stop me," she replies quietly, malice smile spreads across her lips. She really is mad. "If he won't be able to love me, then he won't get to love no one." She glances briefly on her clothed stomach, "Not even her."

His brain is vague, still, and he can't fully comprehend what she means.

She straightened her shirt, the bump more emphasized, mouth grimacing speaking even though Harry isn't listening. "I don't know why I thought you'd help me, you useless idiot."

Harry can only watch her going to her shiny black car, waiting for her chauffeur to open the door for her. He wants to say; _Don't go, come back and explain yourself!_ However he can't move a muscle, stuck in the sidewalk, all of his powers seem to drawn to the ground beneath it.

He watched the car leaves the studio parking lot.

Then he gets it.

The baby.

* * *

His hands are numb when he dials familiar the number.

It's isn't about Louis and him now. It's about the baby's wellbeing.

Every beep on the phone rising his heart beat rapidly.

"Harry?" he pictures big blue eyes widen in surprise and shock when Louis answers.

"Lou? M'sorry I called but Eleanor talked to me and-"

"Eleanor talked to you? Why?"

Harry didn't think he'd hear that sweet silky voice again. He almost sighs in relief and content, but then remembered why he even called. He scolds himself.

"There's no time for explanations, Lou!" Harry replied desperately, hand moving to grasp handful of curls in frustration. "I think that," he breathes heavily, trying to compose himself as fast as he can, "I think she's going to hurt the baby," he swallows, can't let out the word _kill_ with the context of baby. "And I have no idea where she went, Lou, we have to find her before-"

He stops talking when he doesn't hear breathing in the other line.

"Lou? Are you there? Please if you here hurry up we have to catch her righ-"

"The baby." He hears Louis whispers with ragged breath. He sound as empty inside as harry feels. They don't have time for that, though.

"Yes, Lou, think about places she can go, quickly _please_." Harry thinks he's going to go crazy. He's so powerless right now. He needs to go save her right _now_. Why didn't he stop her at the same second?

"No, not her, not my baby, Haz I can't, why she'd do that- this is all my fault I can't believe that fucking bitch I'd kill her once she'll-" he lets out angrily, beneath all the anger there's hysteria. Harry can feel he's about to cry.

"Lou! Louis calm down baby, breath with me, breath," Harry says, in attempt to sound as calm as he can for Louis. He listened to Louis' shuddered breaths for few seconds, then says softly, "I want you to think of ways to get to her, Lou. Focus."

Louis breathes shakily on the phone line, "I- yeah, alright."

Harry needs to be with him right now, needs to comfort him, hug him and kiss him, and tell him it's going to be okay even if he doesn't believe in that himself.

"Bob," Louis finally says, "the driver. He- I can ask him to where she asked him to take her."

"Great, call him, Lou, I don't know how much time we have left." Harry says urgently, pacing across the pavement.

"alright, I- umm Haz?"

"What?" Harry says, mouth pressing to the phone, massaging his temple.

"I love you."

Harry is only left with beeping phone in his hand.

Knowing that right now- his heart can't be more broken or more complete.

* * *

The second call is a lot shorter.

"Lou?"

"Hazza," Louis pants, "Bob says she threatened him not to tell but I heard that-" he chokes, "I heard his GPS alerting that they're not far from our duplex. I have no idea what she wants to do, Haz," he sounds shuddery and in distress. Harry _needs_ to be there with him it's almost killing him. "I'm on my way there with the car, I called an ambulance and they should be right after me. I'm driving as fast as I can and I will call you when-"

Harry interrupts Louis' chatter, "What does it mean _you_ will call me? No, I have- I want to come too."

He can barely hear Louis above the background sounds of wind through the line. "No. No you don't, it's not your problem-"

"It _is_ my problem." Harry insists, doesn't elaborate farther than that, doesn't say _because I feel it's my baby too_. "I want to help you."

When Louis sighs shortly, maybe in relief, and then simply lets out a grateful "thank you" in the voice Harry loves the most in the world; he knows it's going to be okay. If not for him, then for Louis, and that's what the most important.

* * *

 

The five minutes Harry was in the studio's entrance seems like forever now.

In the half hour drive to Louis and Eleanor's duplex he succeeded to imagine the worst scenarios he can think of.

How she jumps from the second floor and the baby died while she'll only be injured. How she commits suicide, and the baby, so small and fragile and _Louis'_ , inside her, trying to escape from her certain death somehow. Perhaps how she drinking herself to oblivion, dancing drunkenly in the living room, whiles her baby is dying slowly in her uterus.

After it'll all be done he's going himself to send her into hospitalization.

He was in nonstop connection with Louis all during the drive.

Louis called, saying he needs someone to talk to someone or he's going to be mad with fear.

His voice, Louis' voice was the only thing that allowed his body to keep driving when he thought he isn't able to.

Louis' voice, screaming into the phone line when he entered the duplex, was what ended his hopes.

* * *

After Harry got to the hospital the paramedics tell him 'the male' collapses right after they got there, and that they found 'the female' drunk and sobbing on the floor.

He sits in the waiting room; wonders if he would've been happier if he wouldn't meet Louis in the toilets the other day.

He guesses not.

* * *

He's woken up by calm voice.

"Mr. Styles?"

He picks his head up groggily, eyeing a man who wears all white. Heaven?

No, in heaven his heart wouldn't hurt so badly. That's probably not it.

"Yes?"

"Louis Tomlinson said he wants to see you."

Harry gets up right away, ready to thank the doctor and run across the hospital yards. Because, well, Louis.

His brain is screaming on him, _clarify what's going on with the baby_ , but he's not ready to hear it from the doctor, he wants Louis to tell it to him, with his voice and eyes and hug and everything. He knows what happened already, then why to hear it from complete stranger.

He thinks about conceding on a thank you to the doctor and run straight away to comfort Louis, but then the doctor speaks.

"Mr. Tomlinson said he wishes you'll receive the information on the baby. He said he wanted to hear it from you, if that's okay?" The doctor says, "He said you're his only family, Mr. Styles."

Harry thinks his hands are too empty. He can't hear something like that without something to hold into. It doesn't matter anyway, right? He knows what to expect anyhow.

He would do it for Louis, though. Louis is probably too weak for that, but Harry is the only one who can deliver him the news.

And apart from that- he is Louis' only family. They have decided that long time ago without saying a word.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

* * *

Entering to Louis' room was a lot easier than last time. When he barely knew him and he was in the hospital _because_ of Harry.

It was a lot easier thanks to a lot of other reasons as well.

Louis' pretty eyes are closed, but Harry can tell with each step that he's awake and that his eyes are wet at the edges.

With one last step he reaches Louis' bed.

His hand hover over Louis' hand, but when he finally decided to tell Louis the news first and then to let him decide if he wants Harry to hold his hand or not, Louis opens his eyes, blinking, blue eyes catching Harry's figure.

"Hazza," he whispers shakily, mouth quivers slightly.

"Lou," Harry whispers back, leaning down to encompass Louis in a big hug. Trying to take all the stress and pain the smaller man felt in the last hours. "It's going to be okay." He reassured, this time one hundred percent sure.

Louis stiffs in his arms. And Harry can feel he's almost shaking with fear and anticipation for what Harry has to say.  

It causes Harry to release Louis from his tight embrace. He doesn't want him to feel overwhelmed.

"What do you mean? Is my baby alright? Did they save her?" He sees Louis blue eyes fluttering in fear and unshed tears. Harry forgotten the news he received once he caught a glimpse on Louis beautiful face. "oh my god, I- I just can't Harry, if she harmed her I don't know what I'd do-"

Harry silenced him with hand on his cheek and soft smile. He can't let Louis stay in fear and lack of knowledge for longer.

He allows the smile take control over his features, watching how Louis relaxes under his palm.

"The baby is perfectly fine." He says; recalls the utter relief he felt once the doctor told him that Eleanor didn't caused the fetus inside her irreversible damage. "It was really close, but they saved her at the last minutes." Harry breathes out, can feel himself beaming with happiness, seeing how Louis places two hands on his face, silently crying with absolute relief.

"Thank god." He whispers against his hands, letting them fall down, taking Harry's hand in his, and holding tightly. "Thank _you_."

In other times Harry would say, _no need to exaggerate, Lou_ , but it's really doesn't fit here, where it's all loving looks and blissfulness all over the room.

"It's not all of it." Harry smiles widely, can't wait to tell Louis the last detail, detail that'll change his life, maybe _their_ lives, forever.

"There's more?" Louis asks at awe, lips stretching into blinding smile. He's so pretty.

Harry is flustered for a moment, but composes himself. "Yeah, well, it'll take some time obviously, it's not a short process, but, like, they said they'll take the case to the court and they'll most likely decide that Eleanor is not qualified to take care of the baby." The smile can erase from Harry's lips, squeezing Louis hand tighter, "do you know what that means, Lou?" He asks excitedly, the impact of it all finally sinking in, heart bursting from happiness, after all she did to Louis, to him, it's all coming into place. "It means you can keep her Lou! That once Eleanor will give birth she's yours only!"

He wants to continue and say, _she's ours Lou; we can bring her up and grow old together,_ has no idea if Louis wants this life with him. Maybe he'll want some time alone with his daughter first.

Louis watches him for a couple of seconds, blue eyes questioning beneath the content he radiated all over.

"Ours," he decided, thumb stroking Harry's hand, reassuring. "She was always meant to be yours anyway." He simply says and Harry can't take his eyes off of him, can't contain the love he feels inside any longer.

Just when he was about to ask, Louis beats him for it. "You can kiss me, s'okay." He whispers softly.

Harry only succeeded to murmur _sass queen,_ before he dives in, meeting in the lips he thought he'd never kiss again. It's soft, and warm, and so Louis and Harry and two of them together, he finds out he can barely breathe.

Louis' hands trail over Harry's body in the heat of the kiss, perhaps searching for something, and stop when they finds the two spots on Harry's body he cherished for Louis (he cherished his whole body to Louis a long time ago, his whole soul, but for now he thinks it's enough).

"Hi," Louis whispers when the broke apart.

Harry doesn't get confused. "Oops." He utter, even though he did nothing wrong except falling in love with a married man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo i can finally say it's over :)  
> thank you so much if you've read until the end, it's a one long thing and i'm not even a native english speaker :)  
> Proud in myself :)
> 
> THERE'S ONLY THE EPILOGUE LEFT AND I NEED IDEAS !! please comment if you have some !
> 
> plus comment your thoughts and opinions I wanna know what you think ! 
> 
> Tumblr: [Hazandloubear](http://hazandloubear.tumblr.com)  
> love youu xxx


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